


The Broken Parts

by Ga_Elle



Category: Dumbo (2019)
Genre: Childbirth, Complete, Drama, Drama & Romance, F/M, Family, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Marriage Proposal, Post-Movie, Pregnancy, Romance, Unplanned Pregnancy, Wedding, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2019-12-30 03:23:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 39,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18307178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ga_Elle/pseuds/Ga_Elle
Summary: The Medici Family Circus is a successful show, with new acts and performances almost every week. Yet, beneath the bright colors and the cheerful laughs, there are the people - those who smile almost only for the crowd, while concealing their secret woes.Is true happiness really possible for the Farrier family? Colette/Holt.[Dumbo 2019, post-movie.] COMPLETE!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes.  
> Pic by LaMarwy (fanfiction.net)  
> The italics are French words, which are translated at the bottom of the page. 

_I am not a stranger to the dark,_  
_Hide away, they say,_  
_'Cause we don't want your_ _ **broken parts**_ _._  
_I've learned to be ashamed of all my scars,_  
_Run away, they say,_ _  
__No one'll love you as you are._ – This is me, from "the greatest showman", 2017.

Chapter 1

Holt had never been a fan of the dark, but he'd learned to really despise the nights ever since he went to war and the darkness had become the epitome of fear. He could always hear the distant blast of cannon into his ears, every sudden light made his blood run cold at the memory of the guns being shot and sometimes the echo of the fireworks captured his heart into an iron grip.

Ever since he'd returned to the circus, he'd never felt really home. His children had grown immensely, even without him, and seeing them happy and busy with their own interests had made him feel quite useless; then, of course, his wife wasn't there to welcome him back. A common flu, they said. Many had died of the most simple diseases in the fields, but he thought that maybe it could be different for them. He was wrong because the Medici Circus had had no money, not even to buy medicines.

Life could've been so different if he had never left for war, if he'd made more money with his wife or if only Dumbo had come sooner or even Vandevere with his dreadful business which brought, nonetheless, welfare.  
Things had gone the way they'd gone and his wife was dead and his children had become a young independent lady and a cheerful and hopeful young lad.

Little Dumbo had brought their little family back together and Vandevere, though unwillingly, had brought him a bright new future: with his downfall, the new Medici Circus had risen.

He loved the new acts, his old fellow companions merged with their new performers, but what he liked most about the improvements, were the ones brought to his horse show.  
At first, he couldn't quite put his fingers on what exactly could be, and he considered that maybe it was the black stallion he had to ride or maybe that now his targeted balloons were flying and moving, or perhaps, yes, it was catching Colette as she descended from her ring and take her cantering around the small arena as she waved at the audience with her elegant and gleaming smile.

Maybe what he really enjoyed was the bond he had to create with her during the various rehearsals, since apparently, she had never ridden a horse before and staying on an elephant's back as it flew through the air, was different from actually riding an animal.

He found out that Colette was really good and caring with his horse. He'd watched several times as she quietly talked to him, stroking his dark fur as she did with Dumbo right before the show; at first, he thought she was doing so just because she was forced to bond with the little elephant, being the calf the main part of her new, imposed act, but now she had no reason to fake her kindness toward the animals, nor toward his kids.

Milly and Joe seemed to adore her and she often stayed with them, reading, teaching them things, telling them about Paris and France and the places she'd seen.

Colette had seemed to compensate the absence of their mother without any forced intrusion and the kids had accepted her cares immediately and with enthusiasm: she provided them love and kindness, things that for some reason were inaccessible for him at the time. It hurt him being unable to be the father they once had. They deserved much better than him as a parent figure.

He paced quietly around his tent and peeked inside to see that none of the lights were on. He sighed, while a timid smiled started to crept through his lips as he imagined exactly where they could be.

Holt looked up at the black sky to see the almost full moon staring back at him, telling things he couldn't quite understand yet. Maybe one day, everything would become clear, their lives would be back to normal, maybe even better than before.

He inhaled sharply the cool air and walked with a steady pace toward the closest tent.

He could almost make out her shadow projecting upon the pale fabric of the curtain. Without even knowing it, Holt was smiling to himself; he could always sense a certain good feeling whenever he had to go to her, whether it was for a new idea to improve their acts or to ask her an advice about his kids – even if she hadn’t any, she was a natural with them, always having a nice word or a comforting smile when they need one. Even if he missed his wife dearly, Colette knew how to give them the warmness they sought for and should rightfully have.

Holt cleared his throat before entering the tent, pushing slightly the curtain away as he peeked inside. His eyes struggled to adapt at the poor light, but he could easily find the lit candle on the table bathing the whole area with a flickering, dim glow.

He spotted the small bed almost immediately, but he couldn’t quite figure out the confused clump of bodies intertwined with each other.

“Shht.” Whispered Colette with a sweet smile, her forefinger delicately pressed on her lips.

She still had a book on her chest, a collection of French fairy tales she translated for them each night when they asked her to. It was kind from her and she didn’t mind, apparently.

Colette seemed to be trapped between Milly’s body, who had fallen asleep at the feet of her bed, clutching the woman’s legs as they were some sort of teddy bear, and Joe’s one, who had apparently collapsed atop of Colette with his head unceremoniously slouching on her lap.

It was a pretty adorable image, he had to admit, but there was something inside him that made his stomach turn in guilt. Maybe it wasn’t right to leave such a burned on her, when Colette wasn’t their mother. Perhaps she wanted her privacy and was too kind to speak up for herself, fearing she might be seen as rude - like that was even possible.

Holt sighed, somewhat mortified, and began to massage his own scalp as he thought of the best way to move them away to bring them in their own tent and leave Colette to her earned rest. Perhaps he could spare Joe and carry him, but with just one arm it was impossible to lift Milly also without waking them both. Yes, despite her delicate appearance, Colette was strong and maybe she could help him.

“What are you thinking?”

Holt rose his head when he heard the woman’s whisper. His features softened instantly when he noticed she was smiling.  
He shifted uneasily from one foot to the other before talking.

“Just – that they seem to spend more time here than in our tent.” He confessed, a timid smirk creeping from his lips.

The steady noise of the kids’ breaths was a soothing sound and he couldn’t ignore that her face, especially when she was smiling, was able to do the trick too. Why, he didn’t know.

“I think they miss our little _ami_ elephant.” Said Colette with the same, dim voice and he felt his heart flutter when he saw her hand searching blindly for Joe and once it had laid atop of his head, her fingers started to brush his hair distractedly. “Besides, they keep me company.” She added.

It was a realization he wasn’t ready to take in: of course, he knew that taking care of the kids wasn’t a burden for her, and yet, somehow, it didn’t occur to him that Colette sought for their company too. Yes, she had her former colleagues from Dreamland, even though they didn’t seem to know each other very well and new fellow companions from the Medici Circus who she could consider friends, but apart from that, she was alone.  
She had no family member like anyone else had: the Chinese contortionist were a three-generation family, the acrobats were all relatives and the ones not related by blood they were bound by love. She had none.

“You must feel lonely sometimes.” Offered Holt with a sympathetic smile.

Colette stared silently at him for a long moment. Her eyes had grown sad, the sparkle within her blue iris turning darker as she exhaled softly, but he couldn’t tell for sure, for the light was poor and deceiving.

For an instant, he thought she would answer him yes; yet, soon after, she shook softly her head. Although she was still smiling, it was not the same.

“I’m not alone.” Her voice was low, but at some point, it cracked. Colette seemed to mind that little fail in her whisper and swallowed quickly a lump in her throat.

Holt could feel she was lying on some level. She may be surrounded by people, ones of her kind, but she felt alone anyhow – the kids, maybe they were the only ones who provided her some sort of normality. Did she even know what a normal life was? Well, neither his kids did, and they were happy. Perhaps Colette could find her happiness too, some day, with them.

All in good time.

Holt sighed again, bending slightly down to watch closer their tangled bodies until he heard her soft giggle: it was clear that it was almost impossible for them to move the kids without waking them up.

“We should just merge the tents.” He commented with a diverted snort, to which she agreed with a nod.

Then she froze, holding her breath as Joe began to stir.

“Yeah, let’s do that.” He mumbled in his sleep, curling even tighter to Colette’s body. Holt shared yet another sweet giggle with her and she returned to brush his hair to get him back to sleep.

“You should just leave them here.” Suggested Colette with a soft twitch of her nose.  
She was in a tight spot to fall asleep and her back must’ve been sore already, but she made her best effort to lower herself into her bed and seek a more comfortable position.

Holt stood dumbly for a second, seriously considering her suggestion.

“Are you sure?” He asked with a furrowed brow.

“ _Bien sûr_. I don’t mind.” Assured the woman, stretching her hand to place the closed book on the table.

Holt straightened his back to look at them one last time before returning to his lonely tent.  
It would be a curious feeling knowing that his kids were sleeping somewhere else and at the same time he was glad that Colette was watching over them, brushing their nightmares away – which didn’t seem to occur anyway when she was around.

He sighed and offered a sincere smile at her.

“Alright then." He yielded. "Goodnight, Colette.” He whispered, restraining himself from the urge of offering her more: a hug, a caress, a kiss on the forehead, but maybe it was inadequate. A mere thanks would not be enough to compensate for everything she was doing for his mending, yet still broken three-members clan.

“ _Douce nuit_ , Holt.” She whispered back.

Holt smiled again, blowing on the candle to let the soothing darkness cascade on them, carrying their minds into the sweetest land of dreams.

Perhaps, one day, they could walk those happy fields together... and, why not, as a family too.

* * *

 

* _Ami=_ friend  
* _Bien sûr _=__ of course  
* _Douce nuit=_ good night/sweet dreams

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your support!
> 
> A/N: English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes.  
> The italics are French words, which are translated at the bottom of the page.

Chapter 2

The bright light of the morning sun forced her to squint her eyes to ease the discomfort. The white fabric of the tent wasn’t the best way to maintain the darkness, but it was enough to prevent those tedious sunbeams from coming in with all their intensity. Back in Dreamland, she had a real room of her own, with real walls and windows which she closed every night before going into bed; that golden cage, however, was nothing more than a dreadful constraint nonetheless; she could see it clearly, now that she was there, maybe in a poorer place in matter of money, but much richer when it came to the people.

Colette hardly suppressed a yawn and hurriedly fastened her robe to shield her body from the morning breeze. It was an old habit to go to sleep in one of her old leotards, but now that winter was approaching, her bare legs were shivering in protest. Perhaps she should’ve switched to something more suitable and soon – she imagined that a heating system was just a utopia for a traveling circus like that one.

She brushed distractedly her hair with her fingers and strolled down the awakening camp with a steady pace. She wasn’t feeling like rehearsing yet: her body was too sore and her mind was partly still dreaming about Paris – she could hear those songs from her childhood, the sweet smell coming from the boulangerie and the memory made her feel incredibly nostalgic for a moment. Maybe, one day, Max would decide to travel to Europe and she would see France again.

She walked toward the stables, yearning for the familiar smell of hay and the quiet huffs of the horses. She’d learned to love their soft and warm coats, and sometimes she would hug Holt’s stallion by throwing her arms around its muscular neck, letting its steady heartbeat soothe her own. Holt didn’t know she was visiting the stables on her own, more and more often lately, yet she couldn’t give herself a sensible reason for her behavior.

It was first morning, Miss Atlantis hadn’t started humming yet, so she concluded that it must’ve been really early and it was safe for her to go to the animals without being noticed.

She gasped, however, when she entered the stables and spotted the familiar brown head peeking from behind a pyramid of hay-bails. She considered slipping away for a moment, her heart racing, when Holt rose his eyes to meet hers.

“Colette?” He said, between curiosity and surprise.

“ _Bonjour_.” She smiled back, trying so hard to conceal her sudden fright.

She watched closely as she rose up with some difficulties and put a food sack on his right shoulder. She felt guilty for not having offered any help, but she imagined that letting him do things on his own was better than to threaten his virility – she still remembered the look he gave her when she’d suggested calling for help when it came to loading her iron ring on the train; it had been quite hilarious and she and the kids had shared a good laugh when it had dropped on his foot, nearly breaking his bones.

“You’re up already?” He asked with a furrowed brow as she approached the horses to feed them. The animals were fidgeting around their boxes, impatiently waiting for their breakfast.

“I could ask the same to you.” She said defensively.

“I’m feeding the animals.” Replied Holt matter-of-factly. “I doubt you have to feed your trapeze.” He giggled, a mocking smirk curving his lips.

Colette nodded, defeated.  
“ _Touché_.” She conceded. “I’m a morning person.” She lied, making him laugh, this time.

Since she’d arrived at their circus, she always complained about morning rehearsals. When in Dreamland, she only had evening shows, leaving her free for the most part of the day and she was not a fan of mornings in the first place, often dealing with the aftermath of a hangover. She used to drown her loneliness and sorrows into the gin, and only now she was realizing she hadn’t touched a single drop of alcohol, fearing it might’ve been a bad example for the kids. Having them around was turning her into a responsible adult.  
Maybe one day she would quit also with the smoking habit; all in good time.

“Where are the kids?” He asked suddenly, dropping the bag near the wall.

Colette shrugged her shoulders dismissively.  
“Still asleep.” She simply said.

Holt let out a diverted sigh.  
“Well, they let you go at last.” He joked, thinking about the way he left them.

“Not soon enough.” She lamented with a smirk and to confirm her words, her hand went to her own neck, her fingers massaging the stiff muscles with intent.

“I can imagine.” He offered. He remembered having them both asleep on his body when they were little, before the war, and they had grown considerably since then. Surely it was way more uncomfortable now than it could’ve been in the past. “Maybe I should go and wake them up.” He added, taking a moment to look at her. Maybe she needed some time on her own to change clothes and couldn’t do that with the kids in her tent.

“There’s no need.” She smirked. “They’ll probably wake up by themselves as soon as they’ll hear the bell ringing for breakfast.”

Holt shared a peal of small laughter.  
“You’re probably right.” He conceded with a nod. Then, he suddenly seemed to remember something. “What are you doing here?” He asked curiously.

Colette took a small breath, her blue eyes shimmering with sudden uneasiness.  
“I was – looking for you.” She lied, her teeth scraping on her bottom lip, which it reddened almost immediately.

“You found me.” Holt replied with a grin, silently urging her to continue.

“I was thinking that, maybe, we could involve the kids in out act.” She stammered, gaining confidence as she went on, after all, that wasn’t a lie. “I could teach Milly some basic tricks and you could teach Joe how to shoot.”

Holt seemed to consider her proposal and his face crumpled up into a serious expression.  
“Aren’t they too young to do that?” He asked skeptically.

“I learned how to fly on a trapeze when I was eight.” Colette replied with some sort of pride in her voice.

“We have to discuss it with them.” He sighed softly. “Unless you haven’t already filled their heads with this idea.” He squinted his eyes with a somewhat pinch of accusation in his voice.

Colette glared at him.  
“Exactly, what kind of person do you think I am, Holt?” She retorted, folding her arms above her chest.

He tried to stare back at her, but after a short time, he sighed and yielded in guilt.  
“I’m sorry.” He whispered. “It’s just that they dreamed of that before.” He shook softly his head and lowered his eyes. “When my wife was alive, before the war, they were waiting to get old enough to join me and their mother in our act.” He paused, a sad smile painted on his lips. “’Farrier Family: the gold rush’. That would have been the name of our act. It was all settled... And then the war came and killed the dream away.”

Colette felt like a dagger had been stuck into her chest. The last thing she wanted was to bring back sad memories in that already broken family.  
“I’m sorry, Holt.” She whispered, her cheeks blushing with guilt and shame. “I didn’t know.”

Holt looked up at her and smiled. He seemed to feel even more guilty than her.  
“Of course you didn’t, Colette. Please, it’s not your fault.” He almost pleaded, reaching out with his hand to clasp her own. “And perhaps we should do that, one day, the four of us, performing together... like a family.” He swallowed hard, suddenly realizing the word he’d just used. Holt had had no intention of replacing the kid’s mother with her, but the word had come out natural: the four of them, what else could they be, if not a that?

Colette’s cheeks turned even redder than before and the flush on her skin extended quickly on her neck and chest, further down to the crease of her breasts.

“Perhaps.” She mumbled in a daze.

Holt halted for a moment to take her in. The stoic woman he’d learned to know was blushing like a girl and her lips trembled with some sort of embarrassment: it was like seeing her for the very first time.  
He almost didn’t notice before how her hair had grown from when she first arrived. Now her chocolate locks reached the hem of her shoulders and that thick bang that once covered her brow was now long enough for her to settle two different strands of hair behind her ears, which perfectly framed her elegant visage. Perhaps he thought that before, but now it was clear to him that he found her plainly beautiful.

“There you are!”

A small, high-pierced voice made them both turned with a startle.

“We were looking for you all over!” Added Joe with an annoyed expression.

“You found us.” Holt commented with a fake, bothered sigh. Then, he smiled at them warmly. “You’re heading to the food court?”

“Hu-uh, we’ve eaten already.” Joe shook his head as he hugged his father. “You missed breakfast.” He added with a diverted grin.

Holt and Colette shared a quizzical look: none of them had heard the bell and, most importantly, how much time had it passed?

“Anyhow,” Milly cut in, sporting a polite yet demanding stare. That, she’d learned from Colette in less than a day and Hold hadn’t decided yet if feeling impressed or annoyed. “we were looking for you.” She said, shifting her eyes from her father to Colette. “Both of you.”

The woman stared curiously down at her, folding her arms on her chest as she tried to divert the children’s attention from her holding their father’s hand. She doubted it would work, but she tried nonetheless. They were smart kids, there was no need for explanation, but she wasn’t feeling comfortable in answering any potential question about it, not at the moment.

“What do you want, _ma chérie_?” She asked and immediately Milly gave her a bright smile.

“It’s rest day today and we’ll be moving to the next city soon.” She started. “I’d like to make a new movie for my show.”

“That’s great news, Milly.” Holt praised. “What about, this time?” She only had films about Dumbo or Colette flying him and he feared that having those images under their nose constantly would only enhance their nostalgia for the little elephant, but he had never had the courage to tell them to stop; maybe changing the subject was their way to move on. He had to support his daughter’s choice no matter what – Colette reminded him that quite often.

“About the two of you.” Joe jumped in, staring at them with an enthusiastic grin.

Hold and Colette shared again a confused look; no, this time it was shyness, something foreign for the both of them.

“Yes,” Continued Milly “during your act. I want to get the horse movements most, but I need some activity going on too, to capture the ladies’ attention.” She explained quietly.

Holt gave his daughter an impressed look. His girl was talking like a real professional, thinking about the need and interests of her audience: action for the gents and a little romantic twists for the gals. That, she got it from the canny Max.

“How could I say no?” Smiled Colette; her French accent came out overpowering from the last word and she offered a quick hug to which Milly immediately run to.

“Thanks.” Smiled the girl. “Can we start right away?” She proposed and before they could answer, she turned to her brother. “Help me with the equipment!” She almost shouted, running off with Joe by her side.

“Hey, I didn’t agree!” Said Holt jokingly as they got out of reach.

“They’re good kids.” Commented Colette with a sigh, a soft smile bending her reddish lips.

“They are. Thanks to you, also.” He said and, without explaining, he returned to his ministrations, trying to make sure that his black stallion was clean enough and ready for the shooting.

 

They had put up a small round arena within Colette’s training tent. Her safety net had been temporarily removed and her iron ring was swaying on its own above their heads.

Milly and Joe were waiting for them, the girl patiently sitting on a high chair with the camera in front of her, peeking through the lens to study the perfect angle, while Joe took care of the photographic plates, handling each one of them with extreme care, ready to help his sister.

“Aren’t you adorable?” Commented Colette with a grin, her fingers busy with shoving her brown hair beneath her red wig.

Milly smiled back at her, only to snort when she spotted her father coming in with his stallion, all tucked up with shiny bridles and stage saddle.

“What?” Holt asked, slightly annoyed. He hated being bossed around, but to Milly, he couldn’t say no – and all because she was getting more and more of Colette’s attitude each day it passed. All the batter, since that woman was strong and independent and he wouldn't want anything else for his girl.

“I think you should ride bareback.” The girl proposed, a firm expression which wouldn’t get a no as an answer. "All those shining things are distracting."

“Yes, boss.” Replied Holt rolling his eyes and proceeded with removing all the props from the stallion, which started to huff and pounding its hooves impatiently. “Is there any other changes we should know about?”

Milly and Joe shared a diverted look.  
Colette pursued her lips when a strange chill ran down her spine: she didn’t like surprises, especially when it came from the children, because she wasn’t able to say no to them.

“So, the horse canters around the arena, then Colette descends with her trapeze and, dad, you catch her like in the act, but – you should put her in front of you.” Explained Milly with a foxy smile. “No offense, but Colette is much more photogenic than you.”

“Thank you very much.” Commented Holt with a huff. It was true, though.

Colette hardly suppressed a diverted snort. She jumped on the spot a couple of times as she stretched her limbs, then she climbed on the springboard.  
“ _On commence_?” Grinned the woman, prompting Joe to make her fly in the air. The boy quickly obliged her, starting to jump happily on the trampoline before landing on the other side of the seesaw, pushing Colette up in the air.

They all watched mesmerized as she gripped at the iron bar and heaved herself up on it until she was safely seated on the ring.

“Be careful, Colette,” Warned Holt from the ground. “there’s no net.” He reminded her.

Colette nodded and began to sway.

Milly started to snap pictures of the horse running in circles, happy that he had a steady pace that allowed her to get the movements she was after. It would be an interesting study.

“Joe, start to bring Colette down.” The girl suggested and the boy promptly grabbed the designed rope, tinkering around with the winch so that the ring would descend safely.

Milly smiled, nodding to herself as Colette started to make some mild stunts from her show as the distance between her and the ground lessened increasingly.

“Dad, catch her!” She prompted and Holt looked slightly up as he made the horse stop in the middle of the arena, patiently waiting for Colette to be in reach. He tried to be as elegant as possible as he wrapped her slender waist with his good arm, gently guiding her in front of him. At the new weight, the stallion huffed and pawed the ground, lifting some dirt like a magical fog. They look at each other and smiled.

“Is it good?” Murmured Holt with a crooked mouth as he tried not to move.

Milly stared at them with a pensive expression: she was not completely satisfied.  
“Something’s amiss.” She commented with a dim voice. Then, without hesitation, she turned to her brother. “Don’t you think something’s amiss?”

Joe climbed up on his high chair, short of breath, and took a little time to study the scene in front of them. He nodded slightly, clearly agreeing with his sister’s opinion.  
“I think they should kiss.” He prompted with a grin.

Colette and Holt gasped almost in sync.

“You’re absolutely right!” Said Milly excitedly. “Why didn’t I think of that?” She whispered to herself.

For a moment, Colette forgot where she was. Milly’s voice had turned into a distant chirp, while every other sound was being drowned out by the pounding of her heart. She should kiss Holt, right there right now; she wasn’t a hypocrite, she had to admit to herself, in the least, that she’d thought about kissing Holt, but not seriously – or perhaps yes, seriously, because now the thought of doing it for real made her tremble. Was her hesitation giving her away?

Should she oblige Milly’s innocent request and pretend that it meant nothing, for her?

She could feel his warm breath crashing against her neck and she struggled to conceal her own emotion as she was sure that her skin was blushing without her consent. Maybe, by chance, the kids would be too far away to notice her reaction, but Holt wasn’t. She felt naked under his dark and gentle eyes.

“It’s for science, Colette.” He whispered with an encouraging smile.

Colette swallowed.  
“I guess it is.” She murmured, somewhat in confusion. She turned her head back as much as she could and waited.

When their lips met into the softest of pecks, Milly and Joe shared a quick glance.  
They fell silent for half a minute, then, Milly decided to interrupt the shooting by clearing her throat, making sure that she’d been loud enough for them to hear – or, at least, she thought.

“Thank you.” She murmured, timidly at first and gaped when neither Colette nor her father seemed to acknowledge her. “Thank you!” She repeated. “ _C’est fini_!” She shouted in the end, using some of the vocabularies she’d learned from Colette.

At that, the two separated.

Joe tugged at his sister’s sleeve with a quite eloquent expression on his little face, while Colette and Holt still stared at each other, their mouth slightly ajar as their small, erratic breaths doubled the stallion’s powerful huffs.

“Sooo, we’re going to work on the new film.” Stammered Milly as she collected her stuff with Joe, who needed several pushes and elbows shoved into his sides before he could exit his hypnotized state and actually help his sister.

Holt and Colette fell silent and immobile for quite some time.  
He was not completely sure what he should say; what he knew was that his heart was pounding within his rib cage almost as strong as the horse’s hooves were hitting the ground. Why wasn’t Colette saying a thing? Perhaps she hated kissing him or she felt strange and was too embarrassed to tell him that she didn’t like it at all. Or perhaps the contrary and she was experiencing the same fluttering feeling inside his stomach like he was and she was longing for a second kiss and a third and didn’t know how to tell because she feared a rejection. Well, that was surely him.

He held her tighter as he hit gently the sides of the stallion to make him walk out of the tent and back to the stable, as for the saddle and the bridle, he would get those later.

Holt entered the improvised barn in silence, the swaying movement of the horse making him shifted closer and closer to Colette’s body. Having her near was compensating for every word he might get, yet he was fearing for the worst: being actually rejected before anything had really happened.

He stopped the horse next to his box and climbed down first, easing Colette down by supporting her by her waist as he brought her down. They did that thousands times after their shows, but somehow this time was different.

Her small hands upon his shoulders seemed to grip harder, his hands seemed to be more gentle and protective around her hips and their eyes, now permanently locked, seemed to give them both another invisible, yet very present, support.

Holt stepped slightly aside when he noticed that the stallion had started to walk to its box on its own and to prevent any unfortunate stepping on Colette’s feet, he hurriedly pulled her to him, without the slightest effort.

The silence was becoming a heavy matter, now.

They stared at each other, both of them stubbornly mute.

Colette held her breath as she tried to figure out the tingling on her lips. She yearned for another contact, perhaps, or was she just being like a teenager with her first infatuation? Maybe she was just making a fool of herself, while Holt, unblinking, stared at her reddened lips, transfixed.

In a matter of seconds, their mouths crashed one against the other, meeting into yet another sweet, more conscious kiss.

* * *

* _Bonjour_ = good morning / hello  
* _Touché_ = touched (comes from fencing, the meaning is similar to "you've got a point")  
* _Ma chérie_ = my dear  
* _On commence_ = shall we begin?  
* _C’est fini_! = we're done / it's over

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes.  
> The italics are French words, which are translated at the bottom of the page.
> 
> M rated: kids, beware ;)

Chapter 3

His mind had gone deliciously blank for a moment. All he could taste was the softness of her lips and the warmth of her breath crushing upon his face and the ghostly touches of her fingers, so delicate and fragile around his shoulders and neck.

Holt parted reluctantly from her when the need of breathing became unbearable and stared at her in awe as her blue eyes shimmered in the half-light, her pupils somewhat dilated. She was positively breathtaking.

He felt a sudden shiver climbing up his spine at the realization that he’d never kissed another woman apart from his late wife, Annie. As far as he knew, he could even be a tremendous and disappointing lover.

Colette was so beautiful and confident and had traveled so much around Europe, who knew how many she’d seduced or kissed; how could he compete with some passionate French lover or a dashing Hispanic?

“Holt?” Colette whispered, taking his face within her hands. “If you don’t want this, just tell me, it’s alright.” She said reassuringly.

“God, no.” He breathed out, gently gripping her wrists with his callous fingers. “It’s just that it’s been a while. You know – with the war and all.” He stammered, not sure if he had to confess that he’d never cheated on his wife during his leave as many had. It was a good thing, after all.

Colette gave him a tender smile.  
“It’s going to be like a first time for me too.” She replied softly.

Holt furrowed his brow at those words. He never imagined her being still intact, mostly because Vandevere had sported her like his girlfriend more than once, yet that sentence made him think.

“Why?” He murmured. His voice came out so dim that he wasn’t even sure she’d heard him.

“Because it'll be the first time with someone I – care about.” She confessed with a timid smile and her eyes begun to glimmer. “Really care about.” She remarked.

It was sad for her, thinking that during all those years with Vandevere, she’d never known love, of any kind. She was just a prop, for him, nothing more than a nice jacket to wear or a gem on a ring to make him shine, and in the illusion that she was important to him, Colette had given that man everything.

Would it be different, she wondered, to kiss and lay with a man who really cared for her? Not in a sick, possessive way like Vandevere, but really care for her feelings?

He and Holt had nothing in common. While her former boss demanded everything from her with an iron fist, Holt was caring and gentle, always asking if she was comfortable with this or that stunt, trusting her with his kids, turn to her for advice, minding her opinion.  
With Holt, she wasn’t a prop anymore, she was a human being, a woman again.

“I do care for you, Colette.” He whispered upon his lips, as he drew closer to her.

She giggled softly, nodding timidly as her white teeth scraped impatiently her bottom lip. It had grown a little red and her lipstick had smeared faintly around the corner of her mouth.

The thought that his kiss was the cause of her untidy state, for as insignificant as it was, made his heart leap.

She kissed him first, this time, her mouth moving more consciously upon his as her arms went swiftly around his neck.

Holt shivered at the contact of her small, warm body against his own, she was so slender and soft. She felt different from his wife and the memory of his once, only lover quickly slipped off his mind: Colette wasn’t afraid of showing her feelings, her hold was demanding, her kisses hot and needy. She wasn’t asking for a quiet place in which the darkness would keep their mating a secret matter; Colette was just asking for him to be with her, plain and simple, and incredibly alluring.

Her fingers dove into his brown hair, tugging slightly at his locks as their kiss enhanced. She smiled when she felt his lips part, and their tongues met for the very first time. Something within her exploded into a soothing nothing and her stomach constricted in anticipation.

Holt clawed the back of her dress, blindly searching for the hooks that kept the costume in place. He loved her creme outfit the most, with the little sparkles that matched the ones he had on his jacket during the show, he liked how it wrapped her body without exposing too much of her if not for her legs.

He sighed when he felt the corset giving in and Colette heaved a long breath.

It was incredibly easy for her to step out of her costume, revealing to be wearing nothing under, unless for the flesh-colored knickers of a thin material similar to silk.

Holt fell silent and immotile for a moment to take her in.  
She was smiling him back, her blue eyes growing darker by the seconds as they shimmered with anticipation. She wasn’t ashamed of herself, nor meek about being almost completely undressed in front of him; and he could imagine why, because – heavens – she was perfect.

Her skin was pale and smooth, the light freckles that colored her brow and neck extended down to her chest like a shapeless cloud of natural glitters, the muscles on her stomach stood out refined and yet graceful and her round breasts moved steadily as she breathed.

Holt felt like he should say something, but couldn’t.

Colette smiled again at him and brought her own hand to her head, pushing the wig away. A cascade of brown locks fell on her shoulders, shielding most of her bare chest from his eyes.

He swallowed with some difficulty when, without saying a word, her hands went to his shirt and began to unclasp the buttons. Holt let her, holding his breath when she was finally done and pushed the fabric aside.

He felt embarrassed, now.  
No one, not even his kids – most of all his kids – had ever seen his body like that. The war had left permanent scars both on his soul and flesh and angry wounds marked the path of bullets and shatters of exploded bombs.

He closed his eyes as he waited for her to recoil at the sight, but instead, he felt her attentive touch upon the protruding lines that scarred his skin. She spread her hand to match the four parallel lines that crossed his broad chest and mimicked the claw of a wild cat scratching his flesh. Colette was transfixed by the vision and her mind was racing to imagine the horror of the fights, the screams and the lonely night he had to endure – Holt knew what true loneliness was.

She trailed down, smiling when she felt him shiver under her touch and went to brush her pads against the other wound that covered most of his abdomen; the stitches they used had been given by a rough hand and his skin hadn’t healed perfectly. The area around was smooth and probably incapable of growing any more hair and it ended somewhere under the waistband.

“Does it hurt?” She asked tentatively, retrieving her hands in fear she might’ve caused any pain.

Holt shook slightly his head: the area was mostly numb.  
“You’re not repulsed by this?” He asked back. “Are you sure you want to go on?”

Colette bent her lips into a crooked smirk.  
“Are you?” She retorted.

Holt smiled back and his heart missed a beat. How could he not feel lucky to have found such a woman? Could he really hope for her to be at his side from now on?

He kissed her gently on her lips before walking aside and Colette stood dumbly for a moment before realizing what he was doing. She crossed her arms, a sudden gush of air hitting her bare skin, a focused on Holt retrieving some old blanket from the barn – which seemed to be incredibly clean – and laying it down on a pile of hay.

He looked down with a sorrowful expression. It was squalid and gross, at some level. How could he expect from such a refined woman to lay with him in the middle of a barn? On the other hand, they couldn’t go to his tent or hers in that state without being noticed.

“It’s, uhm-”

“ _Doulliet_.” She concluded, walking next to him. At least it was far from indiscreet eyes, it was peaceful and warm and, yes, it was kinda their place too: there, he’d taught her how to really bond with the animals, there, she’d learned how to connect with him and work together as a team; they’d spent countless nights in that place, planning stunts and new things for their show.

“I wish I could give you more.” He mumbled, his cheeks growing red.

“I do not need anything else, Holt.” She replied.

Colette sat on the fluffy blankets and her steps had been so light that, for a moment, he feared he was dreaming all of that and he would wake up in his lonely bed.

Holt joined her soon after and he moved his shoulder so that his shirt would fall off. He took a little moment to marvel once more at her body, and his good hand reached her neck to pull her into another kiss.

Before she could even make a thought about what was happening, she found herself on her back, and the hay and blanket underneath her felt incredibly comfortable too.

Holt stared down at her and locked his eyes with hers as he started to unbuckle his pants. Not that he thought about anything specific, yet he wanted to feel more of her, with everything he had – he longed to feel her legs intertwining with his, her belly heaving against his stomach and her hands upon his back. He wanted to feel it all.

Colette closed her eyes as his fingers ran over her body. His robotic hand felt cold against her skin and her back arched on its own accord when the metal brushed against one of her sensitive buds.

Their lips met once again when he mutely asked for her consent, which she gladly and silently allowed, and held him close when he accommodated himself atop of her, her knees gently cradling his sides.

Holt let her acclimate to his weight and propped himself on his elbow not to crush directly on her body. He kissed her once more as he started to glide above her, their breaths becoming erratic and quickly merging into one.

He cherished every inch on her skin he could reach with his good hand, and traveled down her side, collecting shivers along the way.

Colette hardly suppressed a whimper when his fingers trailed down her hips, over the thin fabric that still covered her skin. She suddenly hated the constriction, her legs itched as if the cottony material had transformed into flames.

She parted from him when she felt a familiar heat pooling at the pit of her stomach and spreading throughout her body, from her core to her limbs. She couldn’t think of anything else if not removing the last cloth.

Colette moved away to do so and Holt promptly mirrored her action, removing the clothes still lingering on his body so he could move more freely. When he finally could hold her again, the feeling was so unexpected and good that the mere contact was almost enough to send him over the edge.

She welcomed him tenderly, making room for him as their body accommodated to each other, yearning warmth. Chills seemed to began from her skin and continue on his and soon they could not determine where his body began and hers ended.

They kissed again, feverishly and messy and then Holt started to move above her.

She closed her eyes as the friction created a delicious void inside her mind. Her fingers ran through his hair and her knees started to squeeze his hips with longing when she actually could sense the extent of his growing arousal against her upper thigh.

“Holt,” She whispered quietly against his ear. Her hot breath sent, at once, chills down his spine. “I’m ready.” She said.

He didn’t need any further invitation. Slowly, he guided himself to her. Holt locked his eyes with hers as he aligned himself to her entrance and his lips parted when he realized how ready she was indeed. The warmth and wetness of her folds were driving him mad and he had to control himself not to indulge to his own compelling needs.

Hold gave her time to adjust and only when he felt her muscles relax, he gently thrust into her, letting her folds engulf him. It was indescribable.

Colette closed her eyes at the new sensation and clawed his back when he first moved into her. It was nothing like the possessive and feral mating she’d experienced with Vanvedere, it was sweet and caring and she was actually enjoying the whole process.

Her heart seemed to race, perfectly timed with his and soon she found the right pace to complete Holt’s steady movements. Her breath cracked and moans of delight filled her throat and ears, with alluring groans coming directly from his mouth.

She felt her own muscles tighten around him and Holt throbbing in response. She buried her face on the crook of his neck when his hand dropped where they were joint and his thumb started to stroke her most sensitive skin.

When she was sure she could take no more, she closed her eyes and relaxed, letting the waves of pleasure hit her hard in sequence. Colette had never experienced something similar before. Was that really what lovemaking felt like?

She struggled to clench her muscles, still, feeling spent and yet determined to make Holt feel the same. He kissed her deeply, halting his movements as his face went serious for a moment.

Colette enhanced his kiss and tried to keep him close, but when it came time for him to reach his own peak, she felt him ease out of her, leaving her confused and hollow.

She continued kissing him, even if her hold had lessened and her heart had missed a beat. She feared there might have been something wrong, but then Holt rose his head and smiled tenderly at her, kissing her lips again with a devote touch.

She had so many things to ask – or so very little.  
Colette chose not to say anything.

It was their first time, after all, and quite frankly they didn’t even had the chance to discuss the matter entirely – God, they didn’t even know each other that well: weeks and weeks spent together performing and they knew each other so very little, still. There would be time for that, though.

She smiled and took his hand, for the first time she didn’t feel dirty after mating and she didn’t despise at all having his manly scent all over her body.

They shared one quick kiss as they dressed, then they headed to their respective tents, an everlasting smile upon their mouths. Whoever saw them, would be able to tell easily they’d done something or at least that they look dumbly in a daze for something suspicious; but no one noticed, because the whole circus was abuzz getting ready for the next show, at noon. Holt and Colette included.

* * *

 * _Doulliet_ = cosy


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes.  
> The italics are French words, which are translated at the bottom of the page.

Chapter 4

The days went by smoothly and happily for all of them: the circus was a success and everyone in the near cities rushed to them until the very last day to watch the show.

The last two days had served everyone to get the train ready, loading each carriage with props and billboards, while the animals were loaded last, in the back. Holt’s designed carriage was next, then Colette’s and all the others’ in tow.

They’d decided to keep their relationship secret, for the moment. First of all, because they hadn’t had any time to discuss the matter through, being terribly busy, and second they didn’t want to get the kids’ hopes up of having again a family. So, they’d been incredibly careful, not letting anything leak out, fearing some other performers would gossip and give them away. They committed themselves not to change a thing and it seemed to be working, for the kids would always sneak out from their tent to go to Colette’s and they would hang out with the both of them, happily unaware of the real situation.

It had worked fine so far, but now that they were on a train, forced to be together around the clock, they both doubt that it would be equally easy to hide their longing or even their meaningful glances or smiles.

Well, after all, they would have to tell at least the kids, sooner or later – but there was time.

Most of the day, Holt would manage the animals, feeding them and cleaning the dirty hay to replace it with some fresh one and he would ring a bell to let know the machinist when he needed a stop to make his horse stretch its legs. Apart from those chores, he had nothing else to do.

Milly and Joe were restless. When they were not playing with their mice, they kept coming and going, running between their carriage and Colette’s, who simply surrendered and left the door open, in the end, so that the kids wouldn’t startle her every time they stormed in with happy screeches.

As for Colette, she used to spend her time training to strengthen her muscles, but when she wasn’t working out, then she would spend hours and hours reading to them when they were in the mood – which was always for Milly and never for Joe when it actually came down to study. She would teach them about French literature and about Europe and they, in return, had taught her about that silly Casey Jr. song Max used to sing every time they would have to go in a new city.

“Is the new town really far away?” Asked Joe all of a sudden, making his wooden train ruinously crash with an oversize elephant. As always, of course, the stuffed pachyderm won and stood triumphantly on its feet.

Milly rose her nose from her Marie Curie biography and looked down at her brother as he was some sort of lab rat or simply a case of study.

“It will take at least four days and we also travel by night.” She snapped. “What do you think, _fou_?”

“Milly!” Colette glared at her, gaping incredulously as she struggled to remember when and how could the girl had heard her say that word – of course, it had to be from her.

“What did she just say?” Inquired Holt with a frown and Colette felt guilty when he felt his eyes on her.

“I just called him ‘silly’, dad. Sorry, it slipped out.” Justified Milly, shifting closer to Colette as she blindly and unconsciously sought for protection.

“When did you hear me saying that?” Asked Colette, sincerely curious. “And how did you figure out the meaning by yourself?” She added, truly impressed; maybe by assonance, being the word so similar to the English ‘fool’, but she wasn’t so sure. That girl not only was incredibly meticulous with everything she did, but she was also very sharp and clever, if not only talented.

Milly's cheeks grew red.  
“You muttered that word under your breath to dad,” She began, hardly concealing a sneering giggle as she remembered and she was also well conscious about the reaction she was getting from the two adults there. “back in Dreamland when you still couldn’t stand each other. Since he’d done something really silly I got the meaning quite immediately.”

Holt stared his daughter rather dumbly for a solid minute.  
“That’s not true – I’ve always liked Colette.” He stammered. Of course he’d liked her, she was strikingly beautiful and sophisticated, so far from reach that only a fool would not notice her charm. But of course, they were talking about something different than looks.

“You were mocking me the whole time!” Retorted Colette with a diverted snort. “On the car, when we first arrived at Dreamland, you really thought I didn’t see you making faces?”

“Busted.” Sang Joe, giggling with Colette and his sister.

Holt crossed his arms over his chest defensively, he felt suddenly hot and he could also feel some sweat forming at his temples. Colette had any right to call him silly or _fou_ or whatever it was – only then he realized he’d been acting like a kid dealing with his first crush in the worst of ways. What would Colette think of him, now?

Nothing bad, apparently, because she was laughing with his kids. Not of him, but with them. She was just a special woman, taking nothing seriously - well, only what it really mattered.

“You’re just little rascals.” He laughed. “I should send the two of you to boarding school and let them teach you some manners!”

“Oh no!” Whined Colette with a fake sorrowful voice and they laughed harder when she grabbed them, one for each arm, and squeezed them to her chest. “What would I do without _mes petites coquins_?”

Holt stood silently there, watching them with a timid smile. Their laughs combined was the happiest sound he could imagine.  
“Time to bed, coquettes.” Said Hold at some point, enhancing their giggles even more.

“It’s _coquins_ , dad!” Corrected Joe as he tried to squirm out of Colette’s hold, but without too much effort. Maybe he would never admit it, but the boy liked when she held him close.

“You heard your father.” Jumped in Colette, smacking loud kissed on each of the kids’ brow. Joe complained whining a little but then smiled nonetheless. “ _Allez_!”

The two kids ran to their father to hug him before storming out to where they kept a small basin with fresh water. When they’d done and slipped their pajamas on, they ran straight into Colette’s carriage and jumped on her bed.

Holt offered a confused look at them and crooked his eyebrow to ask for an explanation.

“It’s tale-night.” Milly simply said. “Colette’s reading us Les Misérables.”

Holt offered an impressed smirk.  
“Heavy reading.” He commented.

“Very heavy,” Colette remarked with a soft wink. “Hugo is perfect before bed, he gets you to sleep in a snap!” She giggled, then heaved a sigh. “Well, I better go.”

“Sure.” He nodded, watching her with a tender smile. Holt discretely peeked with the corner of his eyes to assure if it was safe, then, he pecked the quickest and softest of kisses on her lips.

 

It was late at night when he finally found the perfect spot. Holt had always had troubles when it came to sleeping inside the train, with the jolts and the movements which supposed to be soothing and lulling, only making him nervous and nauseous.

He had time to think, though. Because when he was with his kids and with Colette, he finally felt at peace – in the right moment at the right time. But what if they were going too fast? What if they wouldn’t work out, at the end? What would happen to the kids, to the show, to them? What if they ended up hating each other and what if they took different paths, what if they were ruining everything just for lust?

Lust. Lust, that wasn’t about lust. Because when he was with her, his world finally started to spin in the right direction. Or, to better say, everything stopped. His heart burst with joy, his stomach fluttered and he didn’t yearn for anything else but for her touch and hold.

Was he a fool in love? Perhaps, but seeing her happy made him happy in return.

Colette had always a fake smile when she was in Dreamland, he was sure of that. He’d seen her smile for the first time when the kids became her friends and there, at the Medici Family Circus, she was smiling all the time. With him, then, her grin turned brighter and wider each day.

He could only say the same for himself. Not only was he able to smile again, but he felt that also his heart leaping and getting warmer when they were close.

Perhaps he should stop worrying, fate always unfolds on its own. It would know what was best for them all.

He was already half-asleep when he heard a strange squeak coming from the end of the carriage. Holt ignore it, thinking it was just one of the old planks cracking, then, he heard it again, closer this time.

“Holt?”

He blinked in confusion, trying to make out the person at the pale light of the moonbeams coming from the small window. It was Colette, holding her own arms as she tiptoed to him, her robe unfastened and swirled around her bare legs.

“Yes?” He mumbled. It was strange to see her there in the middle of the night; his first thought went immediately to Milly and Joe. “Are the kids alright?” Then, his second, directly on her. “Are you alright?” He inquired with a frown.

“ _Oui_.” She whispered back. “ _Les_ _enfants_ are sound asleep.” Colette said reassuringly. The train jolted and she nearly lost her balance, like she was making a bad impression of a drunken person. She sighed. “That bed is just too small for the three of us and Joe is really fidgety tonight, so I kept falling on the ground.”

Holt giggled softly. Sometimes Joe was like that and they both knew that – she had never complained before, so it must’ve been really intolerable; Milly, on the other hand, was a heavy sleeper like her late mother.

“Want to sleep here?” Suggested Holt with a sympathetic smile, shifting closer to the wall to make room for her in his bed.

Colette stared at him for a moment, considering his proposal. She’d gone there for a reason, of course, but now it didn’t sound like the best option: suppose one or both the kids would wake up in the night just to find that she wasn’t in her bed and, more disturbingly, that she was in their father’s bed.

Yet, she couldn’t consider going back into her own bed. Joe and Milly had stretched out like starfishes and there was no room for her at all – perhaps she should consider the barn or the floor.

“Please. I’m exhausted.” She breathed out in the end, collapsing on his bed and curling herself against him. His warmth swallowed her immediately and his arm wrapped her waist like a second blanket. Colette didn’t even have the chance to say goodnight before drifting to sleep with him.

 

“I told you it would work.”

Milly and Joe stood side by side, half-hiding in the adjacent carriage. Their little hands were gripping the open door and their curious, attentive, little eyes were inspecting the place, waiting for their pupils to fully adjust at the absence of light.  
Joe furrowed his brow, struggling to follow his sister’s machinations.

“They’re just – sleeping together.” He mumbled in the loudest whisper he could manage. He couldn’t see why their plan had worked if they were actually doing nothing rather than sleeping. They slept together all the time: he and Milly, he and his sister with Colette, them with their father and it never meant anything extraordinary. Joe just didn’t get it.

Milly rolled her eyes.  
“Oh, you are a _fou_!” She lamented.

Joe sighed annoyingly.  
“Stop it!” He retorted. “I feel guilty. I kicked Colette out of her bed – like, literally kicked her out of her bed. Twice!”

“Oh shush. It was for a good cause.” Milly stated with a proud smirk.

“You’re the smart one.” Mumbled Joe, not really persuaded, yet. “And you’re sure they’ll end up together?”

“Positive.” Nodded the girl with confidence. “First Newton’s Law: an object at rest stays at rest unless a foreign force is involved.” She told him. It wasn’t actually what Newton had said and it wasn’t complete either, but the meaning – the one that served them – was all squeezed in those words. Also, there was no need in making things more complicated for her brother, who was already giving her his usual dense look. Milly sighed exasperatedly. “We are the foreign force, Joe. We need to give them a little push or they will never move.”

“One toward the other?” Asked Joe perplexed.

“That’s the general idea, yes.” Concluded Milly with a satisfied smirk. “You still don’t get it, don’t you?” Joe stared intensely at her, then, sheepishly, shook his head no.

* * *

* _Fou_ = silly/fool (first meaning is crazy)  
*  _Mes petites coquins_ = my little rascals  
*  _Allez!_ = let's go  
* _Oui_ = yes  
*  _Les_ _enfants_ = the children

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes.  
> The italics are French words, which are translated at the bottom of the page.

Chapter 5

It was a cold day in November when they finally arrived in Chicago.   
The kids had excitedly asked them more than once why everybody called it the windy city and Colette had to invent a nice little tale for them, because, apparently, the real reason wasn’t enough satisfying; and so the legend of the giant mammoth that made tornadoes with just a wave of its glorious tail was created – any references to flying little elephants was purely coincidental.

It was past noon when they arrived, and the air was colder than ever. Colette quickly wrapped herself into an old fake fur coat and Holt gave the kids his best woolen shirts from war. None of them were accustomed to such low temperatures and the building of the new camp for the circus was moving terribly slow: the main tent was only half hauled, while the barn for the animals was the first one to be settled down, so the horse and the dogs could run free in their designated area; as for the rest, they didn’t have the time to set up the tents, so they had to make do with at least another night in their train carriages.

None of them was particularly happy with the current arrangements, but at least they would sleep in some warm place rather than in cold tents. Holt was thinking obsessively about an efficient method to warm up their homes because the usual fireplaces were incredibly dangerous and couldn’t last overnight without care.

Perhaps Max had chosen the worst place for them to be during winter, this time: some of them had never even seen a snowflake in their whole life – he wondered if Colette had; maybe her eyes would lighten up with marvel like Milly’s had, when she first saw snow, several years before. And what magic would it be for the show, to see The Queen of the Heavens flying surrounded by snowflakes like an angel into the mist?

“It’s freezing outside.” Murmured Colette, stiffly walking in her trailer as she shivered from head to toe. “Max has really lost it, this time.”

Holt sighed as he struggled to slip into his nightshirt without turning into a piece of ice.  
“He asked me if I could teach my horse how to walk on ice.” He snorted. “I bet you, you can't beat this one.”

“Well, he asked me if I could use an ice ring instead of my lyra.” She raised both of her eyebrows to emphasize the idea. “Not only it’s incredibly stupid because I would collapse to the ground and in the remote case it would actually hold up, but ice is also slippery and I would certainly lose grip.” She sighed and shook her head. “Besides, did you know that ice can burn as much as fire? I will end up with bruises all over my body!”

“This Circus on Ice thing is really getting out of hand.” Conceded Holt with a frustrated sigh. “I’m sure he’ll come back to his senses when he’ll see that we’re not ice-performers.”

“I hope you’re right.” Huffed Colette, quickly changing her clothes into her nightgown. She hated that thin material, now, because it wouldn’t keep her warm, not in the least. She would call herself a liar if she didn’t admit that she was happy that Holt had decided to sleep in her trailer for the night.

They took it as a sign: it had been a very long and busy day and the kids had fallen asleep immediately, both curled up into Holt’s bed. They didn’t even wait for the goodnight tale before collapsing into the warm layers of wool and the fluffiness of Colette’s fur coat, which soothingly carried her flowery smell.   
It hadn’t happened in ages, so Holt nor Colette dared to make a sound, in fear of waking them up.

When they rushed into the bed, eager to warm up the sheets though they were freezing, they immediately curled one against the other, Holt’s body perfectly spooning the woman’s slender one. They fit like two pieces of a puzzle and soon the heat between their skins began to grow.

Colette thought it was ridiculously cliche, but she could only imagine one way of warming up fast and efficiently. What would anyone think of her? She realized she didn’t care that much either: as long as she was with Holt, she could ask for anything without restraint. Was it really a sin to desire to be with him? Should she really feel ashamed?

She closed her eyes when she stretched her neck to kiss him, softly and with longing, and her legs shifted under the blankets to settle above his hips, their limbs intertwining into an impatient embrace.

Holt gently tugged at her lips before kissing his path to her ear.   
“We must be very quiet.” He whispered against her skin. The hotness of his breath made her shiver.

Colette smiled.   
“I’m not the loud one.” She retorted with a diverted sigh.

He gave her a smirk before crashing against her lips, kissing her with intent as she squirmed under his body to find the most comfortable position to better support his weight.

All of her senses alert, Colette closed her eyes to better feel his hand savoring her skin. The thin nightgown easily gave in to his audacious caresses and she wouldn’t leave his mouth, not even when she felt him wiggle somewhat desperately above her as he removed his pants under the covers. It had become a habit, for them, to sleep without any clothes to cover their thighs: it was just too good to feel the other’s skin, the warmth that could easily compensate for a blanket.

Sometimes they would just lay there, embracing each other, until a sweet sense of drowsiness would overcome them.

Their mating was a soft and gentle matter, this time. She’d turned into a musical instrument while his fingers moved and touched with intent every inch of her body and on that perfectly timed melody, they’d set a matching waltz.

Colette thought if she could dare to call it love, whatever that was. As her muscles tensed around him and his halted breaths filled deliciously her ears, she wondered if the thing that bound them was something different from plain lust; it was certainly an attraction, an invisible thread that drew them together. The first buzz of energy that linked them had transformed, of course: right now, she couldn’t imagine a life without Holt by her side.

Was that love?

With Vandevere – or anyone else, for the matter – she’d never felt like that: she was independent, any day of her life she could spare him, or men in general. With Holt – and the kids – it was different. The thought of living without them absolutely broke her heart.

It was strange realizing she had never loved anyone, nor wished to be part of a family, if not her circus ones. But that wasn’t a real family, was it? She always thought she didn’t need one and yet there she was, clinging to a kind, brave man, wondering about her future.

Colette felt her heart leap and squeezed her knees to his sides to feel him closer.

Holt held her tighter. He was struggling to support himself on his only arm and in the meanwhile cherish the woman beneath him with longing strokes and ghostly touches. Colette would whimper and sigh at every thrust he gave and everything about her was driving him mad.

When he first realized that they’d took his arm off, he panicked. He was genuinely missing something about himself; but then, shockingly enough, it felt normal in a matter of days, like he had never had any left arm from birth: it felt natural. It had become a dull longing, which had lessened considerably when he learned that that would give him the opportunity to go home.

Then, a week later, that dreadful letter had arrived.   
He was packing his bag, happy to be able to see his family again. But his whole family wouldn’t be on the deck to wait for him, because his wife had died.

From that moment, he felt broken. Only half a man, half Holt.   
Not even his kids had been able to fill that horrible void.

And then Colette arrived and he felt a whole man again, a whole different Holt, but whole nonetheless.

His heart throbbed and he passionately kissed her as he halted his movements. He wanted to sink into her, feel everything she had.

Colette’s back arched and he slipped closer to her core. She felt her muscles clench as waves of pleasure washed over her body, making her tremble from within.

She clung to him, her fingers tugging gently at his hair and her longs nail scraping at his scalp. Colette continued to move with him, and as soon as she rode off her peak, she snapped her eyes open, eager to watch him reach his.

She saw his kind face crumpled up into a dense expression, something in between suffering and pure delight and, at the silver light of the moon coming from outside, she saw his lips parted and felt his whole body going stiff.

Colette kissed him thoroughly, but to her utter disarray, she felt him once again ease out of her, his hips moving on their own as he kept kissing her, their bodies uncomfortably detached.

She felt somewhat empty, though not in pain, her heart was not at peace.

When he collapsed next to her, she immediately curled up against his broad chest, nestling her head in the crook of his neck as she tried to sense his heartbeat through her palm.

Maybe there was something wrong, something they obviously didn’t talk about while he had clearly thought through. Still, she wanted to feel it all. Even if she wasn’t ready to call it love, yet, she wanted to erase all the bad experiences she had before, with Holt – he was the one, at least for that, she knew.   
It was nice, she supposed, that he was an attentive and careful lover, but there was no need for that. Really.

Colette turned her head to his neck, leaving a ghostly kiss on his still heated skin. She felt physically spent, and yet her spirit was very much in turmoil.   
“You’ll stay, next time?” She whispered. Holt heaved a deeper breath. He took some time before holding her closer, then, he looked at her quizzically. “Please.” She added in a sort of a plead, which she wasn’t sure she liked.

He tightened his jaw and moved his head more comfortably on the pillow. There wasn’t time for playing dumb, nor he wished to fool her: she was talking about a serious matter and she deserved a serious answer, if not an explanation.

“Colette,” He murmured. “we can’t risk it.” He said in a low voice.

So, it was all about that. Colette didn’t know if she should feel relieved or not – it was soon for everything, she could agree with that, though. But why worry when there was no problem in the first place? That was on her, for not telling him sooner, but when? A good occasion to introduce the topic never happened before.

“Holt.” She tried, but he cut her off.

“We’re not ready for babes – yet.” He murmured sheepishly. “We don’t even know what we are doing and we can’t be reckless. The kids – they would get jealous.” He stammered, his voice cracked at the end. Maybe they hated him already, well, not hate him, just merely tolerate him because he was their father, what would happen if he was about to have another baby? Perhaps they would think he wanted to replace them and he would lose them for good. He couldn’t let that happen.

“How little you know about your children, Holt.” Whispered Colette under her breath and her hand went gently to his cheek, cupping his face with tenderness. “Besides, I can’t have them.”

He stared at her silently for a solid minute. She was smiling at him and yet her face was incredibly sad. He’d hurt her with his actions, probably, reminding her something that made her suffer every time they were intimate; how could he not see that? Why didn’t they talk about it sooner?

“Perhaps you should just see a doctor-” He murmured ashamed, his cheeks growing hot. He never liked to talk about female medical stuff, but when he had to, he did; after all, going to a doctor helped with having Milly, when after years of marriage he and his wife were still without any children to call their own.

Colette sighed and her smile widened a bit.   
“Weren’t you the one who didn’t want kids?” She asked rhetorically.

“I don’t want kids now.” He retorted, emphasizing on the last word. He drew a small breath and smiled down to her, nuzzling his cheeks against her forehead. “Maybe one day.”

She swallowed and shook her head softly.   
“I don’t want a doctor to tell me what I already know.” She replied stubbornly.

“Maybe it wasn’t time.” He assumed, thinking about the life she had before the Medici Circus: travels, Vandevere, heavy work out; that wasn’t the ideal atmosphere to bear a child.

Colette snorted. He was being so naive and he adored him for that.   
“What are the chances, Holt? Dreamland wasn’t built in a day.” She retorted matter-of-factly.

Holt shivered at the thought of that vile man taking Colette as he pleased. Such a wonderful woman in the hands of a tyrant. It was clear that she’d never loved him, though he might have, in his sick, revolting and possessive way; but Colette, really she’d been so alone and desperate?

“Why did you accept?” He asked in a dim voice. He wasn’t talking in a judging voice, so she felt free to tell him everything – or what he needed to know, in the least.

“When Vandevere found me in Paris I was young and naive and very impressionable.” She told him, shifting even closer to his body as she sought for an imaginary shelter from her past. “I had no one. He talked about America, he charmed me with sparkles and glamour and fame, so I followed him.” She sighed. “I thought it was right to pay him back for his kindness.”

Holt shook his head. He couldn’t believe there were such men on the planet, ready to take advantage of defenseless and lonely girls in search of a better future like that. He genuinely hated that man, now, even if he couldn’t do any more harm to any of his kin.  
“That wasn’t kindness.” He retorted seriously.

Colette closed her eyes, her body relaxing against his.   
“I know that now.” She whispered. “There was a time I was glad I couldn’t have children.” She confessed. “But now it’s just sad.”

Holt felt her tremble, so he held her close. He remembered how broke Annie was when she feared she couldn’t have children and he imagined it could be devastating for a woman to know such things for sure. He didn’t want Colette to suffer, nor for her to be unhappy. They had Milly and Joe, of course, but they weren’t hers, she didn’t raise them, she hadn’t had the joy of rocking a newborn to sleep.

Perhaps there was still hope for her. There would be a time when they would finally admit they were a couple, to everyone in the circus, to the kids and to themselves also; and then they would think about the future and making the family grow in number – he would talk to her about visiting a doctor and maybe all their troubles would be solved.

In the meanwhile, what harm could it bring, keep her spirit up? There was no need to worry about such stuff, not now when the best part of their relationship was knowing the other and feeling every emotion at its best.

What better occasion to expose himself, what better occasion to show her she was desired and wanted and cherished? Nothing more and nothing less than her. Even broken, exactly like him.

“Colette, I think – I think I might’ve fallen in love with you.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes.  
> The italics are French words, which are translated at the bottom of the page.

Chapter 6

Cold weather apart, things were going well enough.  
They all found a way to incorporate ice and snow references into their shows and the audience seemed to enjoy the act where snowflakes were thrown in the air by the clowns, or the acrobats skating fast around the frozen arena while they created human pyramids and jumped around.

Holt’s stallion would canter inside an enclosure designed purposely to resemble a snow globe and Colette would be dressed all in white and she would blow on her hand and glitters would scatter everywhere like they were all in a blizzard.

Miss Atlantis would stay inside her tank and the surface would freeze on a regular basis and the fire-eater would free her with her fiery breath. The magicians were doing tricks with water, turning it to ice in the air – thanks to some Milly’s chemical knowledge – and then Joe would do his comical act while posing as a funny Santa handling his insubordinate reindeer.

They also had an outdoor act, which was performed only at noon, with giant soap bubbles taking several animal shapes and, due to the cold temperature, they would turn instantly to ice, creating magical and temporary sculptures which would burst in millions of tiny shatters under the crowd’s marveled eyes.

When they weren’t dressed in their costumes, they would wear thick woolen clothes and high lined boots. They would all gather in the main tent to eat their meals into an enclosed area and they would hang there most of the day rehearsing and talking and settle everything ready for the next show. That was every day, but on Mondays: that was the day Max chose as rest-day, for the people of Chicago seemed too angry to have started their weekly jobs to mind attending a show.

Luckily for them, it was on a Monday when unexpected magic surprised them all. They all woke up a little later than usual and dragged themselves inside the tent to warm up with breakfast, which, as always, consisted in some hot beverage and fresh cookies or cakes – much to the kids’ joy.

Colette was curled up around her smoking cup, shivering as she waited for her hands to get some heat through the china and Holt was chewing some vanilla cake as his eyes wandered around.

“Have you seen the kids?” He asked at some point, gulping down his hot milk as if it was water.

“They ran off.” She replied with a snort. “They don’t seem to mind the cold.” She pointed out, somewhat envious about their little bodies, which seemed to adapt so much better than hers. Actually, she didn’t remember suffering the cold temperatures when she was little, when she would run and perform all day and the constant movements would keep her warm; but she remembered the nights, those freezing, dark hours that were scarred inside her brain and made her shiver every time at the thought, even in summer.

“We’ll see them at lunch.” He giggled, imagining them running over the near hills to play with the dogs until they all run out of breath. But he was wrong: because just a few minutes after, the entrance curtains of the tent opened and Milly and Joe emerged from the crack, panting and incredibly happy.

Holt frowned as he stared at them, impatiently waiting for an explanation.

“It’s snowing!” They shouted out happily, echoing each other.

Everyone seemed to stop what they were doing and Holt offered Colette his hand before dragging her outside, surrounded by the others, all eager to see the magic happening.

“Have you ever seen snow?” He asked her with a childish smile.

“Snow, yes – but never that much.” She replied in awe. It was like an authentic blizzard, the wind was tossing around the flakes and the white sky resembled a milky ocean. It was all so peculiar that it felt like a dream.

Soon enough, the ground began to collect the snow. In a matter of minutes, they were walking on a fluffy blanket and their boots would sink up to the ankle.

Holt was watching mesmerized the miracle, but he was forced to come back to reality when a snowball hit him right in the face.

“Boys versus girls!” The kids announced and after a temporary general confusion, they all scattered around and took opposite sides of the largest area, the one they used for the soap bubbles act.

It was heartwarming to see how everyone always indulged Milly and Joe, being the little ones of the company, how everyone looked at them and see their own children.

They played for what it seemed hours, no one ever really won, but nobody seemed to care, as long as they all laughed and cheered and enjoyed that unexpected gift from the sky.

And finally, when they all ran out of snow and the middle of the arena had become a white wall of partially melted ice, the boys’ army decided to attack. Joe was holding a stick over his head, he yelled something and a second later, they charged them, running through the walls and turning it into a gloppy quagmire.

Everyone seemed to have a designated target and Joe happily chased down his sister until she let him hit her with his last snowball, the magician would chase his partner, Puck was after Miss Atlantis and so on, while Holt – as general Joe had ordered – was chasing Colette silently cursing her long legs.

What they hadn’t noticed, as they ran together, was that the others had stopped with their chasing to stare at them with curiosity. They seemed to watch the last pair standing, to see which side was about to win, but their smirks and conspirator's gazes revealed otherwise.

When finally Holt grabbed Colette by the waist, holding her close to his chest as she tried to squirm away, the group of people behind them seemed to release the breath they didn’t know they were holding.

The kids’ little hearts leaped and Joe bounced happily on his spot, shoving his elbow into his sister’s side, who was glad she was wearing layers of clothes or else she would have a hole between her ribs.

“Will you kiss her already?” Shouted Joe out of the nowhere.

Holt and Colette halted immediately; only now they seemed to acknowledge the silence around them, along with those hundreds of eyes staring at them, eagerly pending what would come next.

If Colette could trade her ability to fly with anything else, right now, it would’ve been with the ability to become invisible. She loved attention from the crowd when she was performing, of course, but she hated it when they were observing her in private, even if it was her circus family. It was a real relief to know that they cared for them and wished for them to be together, but she wanted to announce it in her own times. Really, they’d been so obvious? And the kids, what about the kids?

“We just think you would make a great couple.” Miss Atlantis justified and at that, every head bobbed up and down in agreement.

“You set us up?” Inquired Holt, looking confused.

“Actually, it’s on them.” Said Puck, pointing at Milly and Joe.

“We just want you to be happy, dad.” Explained the girl with an innocent smile, carefully looking down at her brother for support. “And we love Colette, so...” She murmured, leaving the sentence unfinished.

Holt straightened his back, losing his grip around the woman’s body which was, absentmindedly, still holding. He looked at Colette quizzically and all he could do was shrugging his shoulder, helpless.

Colette cleared her throat and folded her arms over her chest.  
“I told you they would be happy for us.” She retorted in a whisper, so low that only Holt could hear it. “Now we just look like fools, because everybody knew it and we – and by 'we' I mean 'you' – insisted on keeping it a secret.” She remarked, hitting his chest with her forefinger. “Men.” She muttered under her breath; but really, why did she indulge him? It was on her too, still, she would never admit it.

She tried to crumple her face up in some disappointed and angry expression, but he was just looking down at her, sporting one of his dumb smiles. His brown, gentle eyes were sparkling only for her and for a moment she felt like there was no one there except for them: no crowd, no children.

“We’re cornered, Colette.” He mocked. “What do you think, shall we give the audience what they want?”

She squinted her eyes, and after a sharp breath, she grabbed him by the collar.   
“ _Ta_ _i_ _s-toi_!” She whispered and, without any warning, she made their lips touch.

It was not the first time they kissed in front of the kids, but that was a completely different matter. The background was a general aww which didn’t seem to cease and the kids would jump and cheer at their own success.

“Alright, that’s enough for one day.” Said Milly at some point, throwing yet another snowball at them, making them part.

What it felt like the beginning of an era, it had now melted into yet another carefree fight, as nothing had really happened. All the fears that had gripped Holt’s heart gone like ice under the sun.

He just wished he’d done it sooner, sharing his joy with the rest of his family, both by blood and not.

And the kids, they seemed so happy to have found new security, a little normality back into their troubled lives. How could he not be happy in return, to be able to love that woman in the open, without the fear of getting caught like a naughty teen? Wasn’t it good teaching for his children, after all, to love freely, no matter what? Milly and Joe were smart and goodhearted and he couldn’t be more proud of them.

He honestly felt like a fool for not believing in them or fearing their judgment. Colette told him, she knew them better and he would have to learn how to know them again. It would be an adventure, one he was eager to live because they would be together, as a family now.

Yet everything seemed to stop when Max Medici came out of his trailer. He hadn’t bothered to wear anything above his shirt, which was odd given the freezing temperatures, and his suspenders were loose and exposed. If that wasn’t alarming enough, his face was crumpled up into a bewildered expression, his lips parted as he gasped trying to vocalize something.

He stopped in front of them, all the laughs and cheers as they all played into the snow turned into a deadly silent, thick with waiting.  
“Pack your bags.” He finally blurted out, his eyes wandered around and then fixed in some random point. He looked transfixed. “We’re moving back to California.”

It would have been great news, to escape that dreadful winter to move to a sunny land, yet their show was doing fine – not great, but fine – not to mention that Max’s attitude wasn’t reassuring at all.

“We just got here.” Said Holt with a snort. A month in a city was nothing for a traveling circus; not to mention the Christmas show they’d organized and they had already bought the fireworks for New Years!

Max frowned deeply.   
“Well, Holt, the investors just cut us off – we have no more funds!” He retorted angrily, his cheeks and nose growing redder by the second. That meant no fancy stages and props, not to mention the supplies for the cold weather, no food, no advertising in a land that barely knew about circuses: they simply had to return to a place where they were known, leaving the uncertain for the certain. He sighed defeated, then looked one by one every performer. “We’re back on our own, folks.” He whispered sadly, before returning to his lonely trailer, closing the squealing door behind his back.

Colette stared cluelessly at Holt, holding the kids close to her as soon as they ran into her embrace to seek for comfort. The others were standing dumbly around them, looking equally lost.

“Holt, what are we going to do?” Asked Miss Atlantis in a small voice.

“What we’re good at.” He retorted with a timid, yet encouraging smile. “We’ll be back at our sweet San Diego and return to perform for our old people.” He said, moving his eyes so he could watch directly all of the new members, Colette last. “We’ll be in California for Christmas and I promise you’re going to like the beach, isn’t that right, guys?”

Milly and Joe shared a quick glance before nodding with some sort of lethargy.

A soft buzz of voices rose and after a few minutes, everyone was off to collect their stuff and load the train. Holt sighed, reaching for Colette and the kids to wrap them all into his warm embrace.

“We’re going to be alright?” Murmured Colette against his neck.

Holt nodded and smiled at the kids. After all, what could go wrong as long as they stayed together, them and their circus fam? They would set a nice little circus and earn a living like in the old days. It would be fine.   
“Of course we are.”

* * *

* _Ta_ _i_ _s-toi_! = shut up!

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes.  
> The italics are French words, which are translated at the bottom of the page.

Chapter 7

It took them a whole week to arrive at San Diego. First, they had to wait for the ice to melt on the rails, then they had to cross the mountains and the train would require several stops to refill the coal, which seemed to be going like air.

But sunny California welcomed them with its mild warm weather quite soon. Even though it was full winter, they seldom needed a coat, which was only during nights anyway. It was like they had time-traveled and went back to early spring or late autumn.

The low budget forced them to settle for the bare essentials and even though for the ex Dreamland performers it was very similar to poverty, for the Medici Circus ones, it was like going back to the basic: the enormous stages were replaced with small ones, their billboard also served for background during one’s act and the props were reduced both in quantity and quality: there were not sparkles and matching outfit anymore and they would only offer peanuts and water instead of fancy snakes and sodas.

But they all managed. They weren’t rich like before, but they still made a living and could proudly state to live a decent life too. During the mornings, they would spread up in groups to advertise the circus and during the evenings they put up the best show in town.

It was all very simple, but it was genuine and the people love it.

Miss Atlantis would hold a full concert underwater, the acrobats would perform in striped bathing suit, Milly had recorded the people strolling down the beach on her first day and she would show her films to her audience as they watched the moving images in amazement; everyone was loved by the crowds, but the ones they loved most, were Holt and Colette. For good luck, they’d kiss after their first performance in town, much to the kids’ happiness and after that, they made the habit of kissing to end of every performance, which was the last of every show, right before the fireworks.

Every night they would all look up at the black sky and observe in silence how it got painted by those magical blasts.

The days turned quickly into weeks and Christmas came.  
They held a real feast under the main tent and they all got gifts for the children, making them feel the most cherished and spoiled kids on the planet. Holt had secretly got a new dress for Colette, even if she almost didn’t wear anything but her stage costumes by now, and she got him a framed picture of them with the children, right back. They laughed at each other and that night, after the kids had gone to bed, neither of them got any sleep.

In a blink of an eye, just like that, it was New Year.  
They had a whip-round to gather enough money and made a feast with lots of different food from each traditional New Years meals, and so the table was filled with American, French, German, Japanese, Russian, Irish and Italian dishes. Colette and Holt didn’t even pretend to wait for an excuse to kiss at midnight, while a cascade of fireworks blasted behind their backs.

Then, fifteen days later, the Chinese performers organized their special celebration and for a whole week, the show had paper dragons all over, scaring the people every once in a while, and lanterns flying every night like a flock of soaring stars.

Even though there was no money like before, they’d managed to create the magic anyway. Everything was marvelous and charming and their lives happy and carefree: during the few breaks, if the temperature was warm enough, they would go to the beach and play on the sand, days would pass so quickly, one after the other, wrapping them all in a sort of an everlasting and perpetual dream.

Then it happened.

Colette stared at the calendar, counting and counting until her thoughts turned into a meaningless swirl of numbers and dates. She would resume her chant, at some point, only to lose track again. She squinted her eyes, shifting uncomfortably on her chair as she tried to get as much light as she could – unfortunately the early morning sun was not a good light source and she didn’t dare to use any candles in fear of waking someone up.

Eventually, she gave up.  
“ _Mon Dieu_.” She sighed loudly, peeking with the corner of her eyes at the three sleeping figures in the large bed – it was actually two beds joint together, but it was enough for them. She tried to focus on all three of them, but her mind was too crowded.

She squeezed the calendar in her hand, the thin page crumpling up into a ball inside her palm, as a great sense of confusion and panic melted and turned her stomach upside down. After all, she’d never been regular, but two weeks late – or even something more – were suspicious even for her.

Maybe she was just stressed, with the travelings, the thermal shock between Chicago and San Diego, the new show and the lack of money, with the non-stop physical activity and everything, her body was just taking time to adjust – it had happened before, anyway. Perhaps the overthinking was just stressing her more. After all, there was no point in fearing and worrying over something she knew it was impossible.

Maybe she was sick. No, it couldn’t be that either: she felt fine, stronger then ever and she was healthy. She snorted lightly, silently laughing at herself. Perhaps it would be better to just go on with her life, ignore the matter and everything would solve by itself – some morning she would wake up to see that everything was back to normal. It just had to be.

As far as she tried, Colette couldn’t think about anything else for the rest of the day. She was nervous, unfocused, but most of all, she was absolutely terrified. She didn’t know the first thing about.. well, she didn’t even dare to name it: her parents had died when she was little and her knowledge about sex and the aftermath of it were very limited, maybe she just knew the basics – and the things she’d learned from her own body throughout the years.

She couldn't stop thinking about the possibility of a real miracle happening inside that machine of fake magic that was the circus; she got so distracted at some point, that she almost ruined the whole act, when she failed one of her tricks and landed sideways on the horse; she blamed it on the slippery lyra and warded off the problem.

Holt caught her twice staring at the void, that day, and each time she managed to find an excuse that convinced him, at least partially, and without her noticing, it was night.

She’d spent the day in a sort of daze, working like a busy ant when the rain had started to fall and she had to help everyone take their props away from the dashing water. It was the second time that week, but her mind just couldn’t remember which day had happened before. She felt utterly confused when the numbness of her brain seemed to cease, which happened only a couple of hours after dinner when it came time to retire to bed.

She was glad, nonetheless, because she would have had a night to sleep on it.

Colette blinked her eyes a couple of time as she’d just woke up from a dream and she forced a smile when she noticed Milly staring at her with questioning eyes. The woman gripped tighter the brush she had in her hand and resumed to brush the girl’s hair as nothing had bothered her.

It was soothing, she decided, to dip her fingers into those soft and long locks and soon she relaxed as the brush unwrinkled her hair. She smiled to herself when the distant memory of Milly throwing a small temper tantrum popped into her mind like out of a fog; it happened just a few minutes before, when the girl needed her hair brushed before bed and she pretended to have Colette doing it, because she claimed that Holt hurt her every time.

It was equally funny and reassuring to know and see that smart and independent young lady turning into the kid she was, from time to time.

“Colette?” Milly called.

“Yes, _ma chérie_?” She raised her head to look at her reflection in the mirror. The girl was staring at her dolly, mimicking her movements as she tried to comb her woolen hair.

“You don’t mind if I don’t call you ‘mom’, right?” She asked timidly.

Colette halted for a moment, holding her breath. That was just life messing up with her: talking about timing. Why did those children always know how to put her off balance? That girl seemed to have the ability to say the right words at the right time, without even knowing what she was actually doing.

Why, out of all the occasion, did she decided to ask that specific question that specific night? She had struggled all day not to think about babies, pregnancy, and motherhood or anything remotely linked to those topics – failing miserably – and now Milly was using the word ‘mom’, indirectly addressing to her. That was ironical.

She took a deep breath and resumed with her brushing; it was not about her, after all, it was about Milly who asked a delicate question and to which she deserved an answer. For the girl, it was important so she couldn’t just shy away.

“Of course not, _mon amour_.” She spoke softly, making sure Milly would know she was smiling as she said those word. “I’m not here to replace your mother.” She assured.

Milly smiled and looked up at her reflection.  
“But I love you nonetheless, that you should know.” She hurriedly added, her eyes wide.

Colette let out just a peel of laughter.  
“Oh, I know.” She nodded. “I love you too.” She whispered and bend slightly down to place a soft kiss atop her head.

Milly beamed at her through the mirror.  
“Joe feels the same. Even though he’ll end up calling you ‘mom’ at some point.” The girl frowned and sighed. “I might too, one day, but not right now.” Colette listened to her in silence. It was like the girl was thinking aloud, so she let her finish in her own time. “I just wanted to let you know how I feel.” She concluded soon after.

Colette smiled.  
“That’s very sensible from you.” She commented as she was talking to a grown up. She knew it was important, for Milly, to be considered an adult or something very similar to an adult, even if she wasn’t one yet.

She kept on brushing her hair until they got completely smooth and soft, then she placed the brush on the toilette, urging the girl to get up. Milly stood up slowly, holding her dolly to her chest.

“Can I sleep in your bed, tonight?” She asked in a small voice, gently swaying.

Colette frowned at the odd request, then, she merely acknowledged the crack of a thunderclap, to which Milly tensed slightly, struggling so hard to conceal her reaction.  
“Is it because of the storm?” Asked the woman with a smirk.

Milly looked outraged.  
“Of course not!” She spat, placing her little fists on her hips, the dolly hanging at her side like a dead marionette. “It’s just wind and electrical discharge, atoms colliding together. There’s nothing to be afraid of, Colette.” She said, puffing bravely out her chest.

Colette smiled warmly at her, playing along and nodding in agreement.  
“Of course you can sleep in our bed.” She whispered, placing her hands ever her small shoulders to comfort her a bit, then, she patted on her back to spur her. “ _J’arrive_.” She said reassuringly.

Colette watched carefully as she climbed up in the middle of the bed, curling up against his already sleeping father and making room for her on the other side of the mattress. The woman doubted she would still be awake when she’d actually join them.

She took her time to clean the toilette and rearrange some few things that didn’t need any rearrangement. Then, she started dusting around, which usually helped her relax even more. That’s how she found the old trunk, buried under piles of equally old newspapers and discarded props from the old horse show.

Colette looked around suspiciously, almost feeling like a thief about to steal some money: it was obvious that the trunk was the designed treasurer of some of Annie’s stuff.  
She always thought it was right for Holt to cherish those old memories, most for the kids, and sometimes he would show her some faded pictures of his acts to better explain what he had in mind when he needed some improvements during one of their tricks.

It wasn’t something forbidden – Holt often talked about his wife and the kids about their late mother, and they all would encourage her to search and take things freely, especially now that they didn’t have a lot of costumes, for instance – but it still felt like she was desecrating something by rummaging through all those stuff on her own and it was something that she’d never done before. Maybe now it was time.

Maybe Annie, being the kind and warmhearted lady like they all described her, would help her from wherever she was now.  
Colette was a good person, after all, she had never done harm to anyone in her life.

She pushed aside everything covering the trunk and opened it, trying her best not to make it squeak too loudly.

Colette immediately smiled when she saw dozens of old billboard of Holt riding along with his wife, the two black horses rearing as they held their guns, another featured Annie standing on the back of her horse as she shot at a flying target, then together again, throwing their lassos up in the air. They looked so good and happy.

She sighed as she brushed her fingers on some dusty leather jackets, the same they were wearing on the billboard, she imagined, then her eyes shifted on a little package on the bottom of the trunk.

She opened the envelope to reveal a framed photo of their family, all four of them, with one horse on the background. Holt had Milly on his shoulders and the little girl – not more than three years old – was waving a flag carrying the Medici Bros. Circus colors, while Annie was holding a newborn Joe close to her chest. He looked so sweet and small and Colette’s heart constricted for a moment at the image.

When she decided she was done, she took the photo out of the trunk and put in on the dressing table for everyone to see: it was a very beautiful picture and she recalled Holt complaining about being unable to find a similar photo. It would make him happy.

She sat on the chair and stared at those people for some time.  
Who was she kidding? She would pay any amount of money to be like Annie in that picture, happy with her family and a little child of her own close to her heart; and yet Holt had been clear about having children at that early stage of their relationship. She had insisted there was no problem and now – now, she was questioning her entire existence.

Perhaps it was indeed just life messing up with her, harshly reminding her that nothing was free or simple and that reality was not a happy dream like they pretend it was, every day, for the people.

Just like when she thought she’d found happiness, it was threatened again by the unknown. It had happened in Paris, it had happened with Vandevere and of course, it had to happen there too, when she thought she’d found the perfect home to sit back and enjoy a quiet future without surprises.

Just like when she thought she’d found peace, life had played a cruel trick on her and she found herself on the verge of a cliff, once again.

Perhaps, yes, she was overthinking a non-existing matter, but if she was not, then she would have to start accepting that, sooner or later, she would have to talk to Holt and let him know that their lives were about to change for good.

* * *

*  _Mon Dieu_ = my God  
*  _ma chérie_ = my darling  
*  _mon amour_ = my love  
*  _J’arrive_ = I'm coming

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes.  
> The italics are French words, which are translated at the bottom of the page.

Chapter 8

Colette had never considered herself as a coward and yet she had to admit that, in that specific situation, she was behaving like a chicken.  
In the month and a half after reaching San Diego, she would wake up thinking she would talk to Holt about the possibility of an unexpected arrival tomorrow, but of course, that tomorrow never arrived.

She’d hoped that everything would solve by itself, but it hadn’t.   
She would curse herself every night Holt shifted closer to her and she had to bite down her lip when they were intimate because her breasts felt sore and tender and she couldn’t tell him.

Then, one day, the sickness began. Not regularly – was there even anything regular about her life? – not every morning, but every now and then.

Colette delayed the talk as long as she could, but honestly, she’d reached a point where she couldn’t ignore the matter anymore.

“ _Mon dieu_.” She muttered under her breath as she studied the reflection of herself in the mirror, right after taking her usual bath. She avoided mirrors for weeks, but now she decided to take a look.

She had always been extremely petite and slender, yet now her stomach seemed to be somewhat rounder, just as if she just had a really large meal, not to mention her fuller bust. She gaped at herself, almost if she couldn't recognize the person the reflection was giving back.

It was time to accept things as they were.

She abruptly turned sideways, her heart hammering into her chest just like the first time she jumped off the platform to fly on her trapeze, and with very attentive fingers, she touched her abdomen, only the pads ghosting over the tensed skin.

Colette held her breath as she realized that her eyes hadn’t deceived her and her once flat, yet muscular stomach had now gained a certain swell.   
She retrieved her hand almost immediately as if something had burned her, her head growing heavier as she returned to breathe, sharply now, as she was feeling faint.

She slipped into her robe and left a watery path as she walked to her portable closet. She wrapped herself into her longest nightgown, which also happened to be of a comforting navy that helped her feeling less eye-catching than usual.

All she could do was waiting for Holt, now.

She hardly resisted the urge to flee somewhere very far from there and never come back, but no, she wouldn’t act like a coward anymore. She always thought of herself as a strong woman, well, it was the day she would be in charge of her own life and face the outcomes.

“Colette?” Holt walked inside their tent alarmed. He’d left the children with Miss Atlantis as they roasted some candies as Colette had asked, and he rushed to her almost immediately. The ‘we need to talk’ warning had always terrorized him, so when he’d found her sitting on their bed with an absent expression, he hurriedly tried to indulge her small request of being alone to talk.

He would usually take time to watch her as she dabbed her hair with the towel, just after her evening bath, but now she didn’t seem to care much, because her hair was drenched and untidy, dripping on her robe and wetting the blankets underneath her.

Holt felt scared for a moment and he wondered what could be wrong. Yes, she had felt distant lately, but they were all so tired and busy that he blamed the hard work, and then there was nothing wrong between them: they would often kiss and snuggle and also make love from time to time, like a perfectly normal couple.   
Marriage wasn’t important for neither of them.   
The kids were fine and they loved her immensely.

Unless it was the other problem that tormented her.

Holt sighed and sat on the bed with her. The mattress bounced under the added weight, making her inevitably shift closer to him. He just had to turn slightly to her and reach out with his arm and Colette easily nestled against his broad chest.

“I know.” He whispered quietly, his lips brushing against her wet hair.

Colette looked up, utterly frightened. Honestly, she would expect him to freak out and yell.  
“You know?” She repeated in astonishment, her finger eagerly gripping the collar of his checked shirt. How could he know? Was it that obvious already?

He nodded and laid a kiss atop of her temple.   
“You don’t have to worry, Colette. Destiny will take its course, but I can assure you one thing.” She had already crooked her eyebrow at that, but she let him finish. “We’re going to be happy anyway, we don’t need more children.”

Colette tightened her jaw immediately, lifting herself off of him. He had clearly misread her behavior, but she couldn’t bear those words, not now anyway.   
“What are you talking about?” She growled, her blue eyes shining with anger. “You don’t want children from me?” She asked, outraged.

Holt stared at her in confusion. His intentions were to comfort her and help her out a moment of sadness, but now he realized he’d made some sort of mistake. What was wrong with the four of them? And why on earth did she think he wouldn’t want a child from her? What could possibly lead her to that conclusion? Wasn’t he the one who had suggested a doctor, for the future, when she talked to him about her inability to carrying children?

“What are you talking about, Colette!” He retorted, his glare demanding.

“That I might be pregnant, _bon dieu_!” She snapped back.

Holt stared at her, immotile.

She didn’t dare to say a word, but the waiting was literally killing her.  
She stood up on her feet and started to pace nervously around the bed, fastening her robe tightly and holding her elbows, a little lower than usual, absentmindedly covering the source of her problems.

“You what-?” He finally breathed out, sounding both incredulous and irked.

Colette stopped her pacing to look at him with a sheepish expression painted on her face.  
“I didn’t believe it myself.” She whispered and the corners of her mouth crooked slightly up on their own accord.

Holt didn’t seem at peace, he looked agitated. His body was radiating invisible energy, nothing positive anyway.   
“We talked about it.” He said sternly.

Colette let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She imagined it would be a tough matter, but never like that. She felt like crushing repeatedly into a brick wall.   
“It’s not something I decided.” She pointed out. “And I didn’t trick you into it if that’s what you mean.”

Holt squeezed his eyes.   
“No, it’s not what I meant.” He sighed. “I knew this would happen.” He angrily grunted but didn’t even make the effort to lower his voice, so Colette heard and felt incredibly guilty: she was the one, after all, who insisted, she was the one who told him there wouldn’t be any problem and of course he’d trusted her.

“I didn’t.” She replied in a dim voice. Their eyes met for an instant.   
It was true, not that it was a thing to be proud of but, before Vandevere, she had other partners in Paris growing up and nothing ever happened. She was at least entitled to think she was barren.  
Maybe Holt was right: it hadn’t been the time, but now the time had come, inevitably, surprisingly and unbelievably life-changing.

“Well, I told you this would happen-” He snapped, making her jerk away when he suddenly rose from the bed, like a compressed and released spring. “I told you and you wouldn’t listen!” He growled. He didn’t want to be mean with her, god he knew what it meant for her, but the kids? What about the kids? Milly and Joe were his priorities and the last thing he wanted was to hurt them. They needed time to adjust to this new life – he himself needed time to adjust to this new life. It was suffocating.

“I said ‘might’.” Colette justified with the smallest voice she could manage. Yes, it was an early stage and she knew about the risks, which increased dramatically when the mother was living a busy life like hers. Perhaps Holt’s wishes would be fulfilled and everything would turn back to normal on its own.

It was equally sad and painful the hopeful expression Holt was trying to conceal, now.  
“How long have you known this?” He asked softly.

“I have suspected for a while now,” She shrugged dismissively. “a couple of months.”

“A couple of months?” He blurted out. “That’s far from ‘might’!”

Colette’s heart skipped a beat. Now that someone else was saying she was pregnant, it made the whole matter increasingly more real. She couldn’t help feeling happy, but that only worsen that dreadful feeling when she sensed Holt’s disappointment.   
“Aren’t you even a bit happy?” She asked timidly, frowning when he hardened his face.

“No, I’m not.” He snapped harshly: the kids, what about the kids? Where was the time to adjust? They were moving too fast. “I’m sleeping in the barn, tonight.”

  


Holt woke up with a startle. He had the worst dreamless night of his whole life: nothing compared to the scary nights during the war, because that nothingness, void and deafening silence were scarier than anything else in the world.

He’d missed snuggling to Colette’s body as they slept, he’d missed the comfort of their bed and the peaceful snoring of the children, he missed all the small things, but most of all, his mind was crowded with dreadful images of the past evening.

He felt horrible, he couldn't recognize himself in those memories.

It was something so beautiful, especially for Colette, and he’d turned it into something obnoxious. She didn’t deserve it. God, he was happy to have a child from her, even if it wasn’t the right time – the kids, they were good and smart, but they were kids nonetheless. They were entitled to being jealous of a new baby which wouldn’t be totally their sibling; it was life moving on, but he wasn’t sure they would accept that change so easily.

Perhaps he was thinking too much, like always. The fact remained: he’d behaved like an ogre, he missed Colette dearly and the least he could do was make amends and plead for her forgiveness.

He splashed his face with some water and exited the barn. He squinted his eyes when the sunbeams blinded him; the light was intense and the fresh morning breeze was almost completely gone; everyone was getting ready, so it must’ve been almost mid-day, or rather show time, and soon.

Holt couldn’t knock on the tent, so he made his best effort to enter as slowly and quietly possible. He smiled when he saw the kids busy with the costumes and their props and he was glad also to see that only the double bed was undone, so they must’ve been sleeping together – he couldn’t bear the thought of her being alone on such a night. It was on him.

“Where have you been?” Joe scolded as soon as he saw him, but didn’t bother giving him any hug.

“I hate it when you two fight.” Milly grunted, jumping into the conversation as she walked closer to them. Like her brother, she continued with her preparations. He had it coming.

He saw Colette for last.   
She emerged from the patterned divider and sat in front of the toilette; the woman didn’t seem to have noticed him until she spotted his reflection in the mirror.   
They stare at each other through it.

“I came here to apologize.” He finally breathed out.

“Hallelujah.” The kids sang in a chorus.

He would have giggled at that, but then he saw her putting on her stage wig, next he noticed that she was barefoot and wearing her costume and she was bending forward to apply her make-up.

“You can’t perform.” He stated protectively. He suddenly felt dumb and scared at the thought of all the shows they’d done together without him know about her, all those jumps and leaps and tricks up in the air – he would have drag her down the lyra if he only knew.

Colette moved the fake lashes as she put on the dark mascara.   
“Of course I can.” She retorted with a musical voice. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Holt stared her dumbly. With the kids around, he couldn’t yell at her – it wouldn’t even be fair – but he couldn’t even talk freely. Milly and Joe deserved a quiet and nice talk in the least, they needed to know that everything would be fine.

Right now, however, it was Colette who made him think: she seemed to be completely apathetic regarding the whole matter, almost as if the past evening never even happened. How could she ignore everything was beyond him. How could she just pretend that everything was great when he was eager to talk to her and hold her to share her fears and joy? How could he delay when all he wanted was to talk about their future?

“ _Ma chérie_ , help me with the costume.” Colette called and Milly came running happily to her “Pull the strings, be a darling.”

Holt frowned deeply as he attentively watchd his girl pulling the strings with intent, tightening up the stage corset as much as she could. He felt unquiet when he saw Colette drawing a sharp breath when Milly was done.   
In any other situation, he would point out that it was too tight but chose not to say a thing.

Colette looked at herself in the mirror, testing the corset constriction as she tried to expand her lungs. She had to admit she didn’t have much room to breathe, but for a little while more it could do; after all, she’d hidden her secret for so long, even to herself, under her corset, flattening her stomach, and even if she was feeling uncomfortable, she repeated to herself that it was only for the show, that in a matter of an hour she would be free again.   
She would be fine.

“So, l’ _heure du_ _spectacle_?” She gleefully announced and the kids happily preceded them, exiting the tent first.

Colette was about to follow them in tow, when Holt grabbed her by the waist, holding her back.

“Colette,” He whispered softly. “please don’t push me away.” He could smell her sweet perfume, he longed for her lips, he missed her embrace. “I’m sorry about yesterday, I was not thinking straight.” He said. “I lied: I am happy.”

Colette couldn’t help smiling. She slightly turned to him, her eyes shimmering.   
She was about to say something, but the words died into her mouth when they heard the trumpets blow and Max announcing proudly the beginning of the exhibition, gathering the people with a thundering voice.

“We’ll talk after the show.” She whispered back, her hands reached easily his shoulder and neck and her fingers briefly stroked his scratchy skin. He needed a shave and the thought made her helplessly giggle.

“Am I forgiven?” Asked Holt with pleading eyes.

Colette nibbled at her bottom lip, then, shying away from his glance, she nodded.

  


She waved gracefully at the crowd while sitting on her ring, and just like she had the power to control gravity itself, she spread up her arms and the balloons lifted her up in the air, several feet from the ground. She had never been afraid of heights, obviously, but she wondered if she was experiencing some sort of altitude sickness when she noticed that the people were shifting in size quite alarmingly.

Colette forced herself to smile and warded the problem off, thinking that focusing on a few tricks would clear her mind. It worked, so she continued with delighting her crowd with several leaps and tricks until Holt came in cantering on his black stallion.

She genuinely smiled when she saw him running around the small arena and, after a few rearing, he pulled out his gun.  
She was never happy to climb down her ring, yet for the first time, she was eager to be on the ground again; Colette hated the feeling and she got mad at herself for it.

Holt finally pulled the trigger.

The first blast deafened her.

The second cut off her breath.

The third made her head spin and by the time the fourth balloon had burst, she’d lost grip on the ring and had fallen over backward, her eyes shut close.

The crowd let out a panicked shout like a chorus out of tune and Holt shot his head up immediately, managing to catch her just in time. The horse reared again at the sudden weight, but he talked a few words to calm it down.

Colette was slumped against his chest, sitting lifeless on the saddle in front of him. He sported a fake smile and pretended everything was fine, despite her head hanging on his shoulder, awkwardly bending sideways.   
He didn’t understand why nor when the clapping had started, but only recognized Max’s voice into the megaphone trying to cover everything up and detour the people’s attention over other performers. It worked.

Holt was terrified.   
He’d lost everything even before it even started; he couldn't bear the thought of losing the child whose existence he’d just acknowledged, but most of all, he couldn’t bear the thought of anything bad happening to Colette; she’d suffered enough, it was his job to protect her.

Holt tried to ignore Milly’s frightened screeches as he spurred the horse to jump the small fence and galloped furiously toward the safety and privacy of their tent.

* * *

* _Mon dieu_ = my god  
* _bon dieu_ =  dear god (for god's sake)  
* _Ma chérie_ = my darling  
* _heure du_ _spectacle_ = showtime

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes.  
> The italics are French words, which are translated at the bottom of the page.

Chapter 9

Holt tapped his feet impatiently, stretching his back on the chair as he stared at the immobile figure in the bed; she hadn’t moved since he first took her there and laid her down on their bed.

Fortunately, within the crowd there had been a doctor who had witnessed the whole scene.

There had been blood and that good fellow had started to visit Colette right away, without asking for any money. They immediately freed her from the tight corset and Holt saw her chest expand like she was drawing her first breath on earth; he slipped the first nightgown he found for her modesty as the doctor checked on her, but Holt wasn’t able to assist him further, because he had to comfort the kids, who also had seen the scene from afar.

They told him she was restless all night, she’d walked up and down the tent, Joe claimed to have heard her cry once, but he couldn’t be sure because he was only half-awake. Milly said she was putting on a lot of make-up to conceal the dark circles under her eyes. Holt hadn’t noticed that, the fool he was.

Colette had insisted, she was exhausted and yet she performed with him. They weren’t bubble-makers, they weren’t even clowns, their act was dangerous and physically challenging. How could he let it happen?

That was his punishment. She hadn’t move for nearly two hours now.

The doctor had said it was normal, that she was expected to wake up before evening, that it was just her body recovering, but of course, the sooner the better.

His heart leaped when he finally saw her stir.

Holt hurriedly left his chair to rush at her side, carefully sitting on the edge of her bed.  
“Easy.” He warned, reaching blindly for her hand; her fingers were cold.

His eyes eagerly locked on her face, so much pallid than usual, waiting for her eyes to flutter open. He’d missed her eyes so much, even more now that he wasn’t able to see his image reflected into those magnetic blue pools.

“Holt?” She called wearily; her pupils struggled to focus for a moment.

He smiled when she finally heaved a breath, her chest rising and falling regularly, her eyes open and vigil, even if clearly tired.  
“You gave us quite the scare, Colette.” He gently scolded, absentmindedly squeezing her hand into his larger one. He suddenly remembered the kids crying in fright, telling things that could hopefully be useful to the doctor in order to make her feel better. They looked so scared, but he had been genuinely terrified. His heart even stopped at the memory.

Colette looked around, slightly confused: the last thing she remembered was flying on her lyra, balloons over her head and the clear sky up above, as always, and now she was in their tent. In a flash, she remembered the blasts, the dizziness and suddenly it was like falling off the ring all over again. The whole tent spun for a moment.

“What happened?” She asked in a whisper, her eyes shut close.

“I don’t know what happened.” He replied sincerely. He could only blame her weariness and the dangerous situation, but really he couldn’t see why the shots had triggered such a strong response. “I told you, you can’t perform anymore.” He lectured, a preoccupied tone modeling his voice, then, he smirked. “You’re so stubborn.” He snorted, seriously hoping that Milly wouldn’t copy her even in that trait. “I wonder when you’ll start listening to me.” He mumbled.

Colette took a small breath, a diverted smile creeping through her lips.   
“Probably never.” She replied consciously.

Holt nodded, sighing loudly.   
“I should have seen it coming.” He remarked, helping her up when he noticed she was trying to move to a more comfortable position. He rearranged the pillows for her, so she wouldn’t be completely laying flat, but not even seated, as the doctor had told.

Colette stubbornly avoided to think about her status: apart from a general numbness and exhaustion, she felt fine. She needed to put her mind onto something else, delay the problem and the talk for a while: she’d been a bit reckless, yes, but now everything would be different.   
“When can I get up?” She asked impatiently, but Holt shook his head.

“You must stay in bed for a while.” He saw her eyes widen in panic at those words, her whole body tensing. He could only imagine the thoughts running through her mind at the moment, so the best he could do was to put her heart back at ease. “No, don’t worry: it’s fine.” He reassured with a tender voice. “The doctor left a while ago. He gave me instructions.” Holt glared sternly at her, while also smiling, to make her known that there was nothing to be worried about, but she had to follow some rules.

The blood had made him panic, but the doctor had said that discharges were to be expected, from time to time, especially that early in the pregnancy, and of course, there had been the physical labor that had lead to some sort of mild trauma for the young fetus. Colette was right: the odds were against her, but somehow there was a baby growing inside her womb; they needed to be careful because it wouldn't be the easiest of pregnancies. It wasn’t at risk, as things were, but they needed to be extra careful nonetheless.   
There would be time to tell her everything, though, but not right now: at the moment, she just needed to sit back and relax.

Colette stood silent for a moment. There had been a doctor there, checking on her, telling Holt that everything would be fine. There were no excuses now: it was all real, she didn’t have to speculate anymore.   
“Am I really – pregnant?” She asked like in some sort of haze, the word sounding foreign coming out from her own lips.   
She wasn’t broken, then. She wasn’t broken like she thought she was.

Holt crooked his lip up into a smile. He nodded again.

How strange life was. He thought he had lost anything the moment he learned about Annie’s death, then he got home from war and the absence of his left arm made him feel ashamed – he was the real freak among a group of people that pretended to be freaks in order to get money from the crowd – then his horses had been sold and he had to take care of elephants like it was the same thing; then Dumbo arrived and his world turned upside down with the promises and the wonders of Dreamland, with Colette being the only authentic thing among all those fake and blinding lights. They had returned home, to the old Circus and their lives were finally peaceful again.

He had dreaded the changes, because his life was perfect like it was: his kids happy again, cultivating their passions, him with an able partner for his act and even more perfect one for life, always beside him. He didn’t want anything to change, and when something happened, something that escaped his control, he had freaked out.

At that moment, he didn’t think of hurting Colette, for his mouth was telling things he didn’t really mean. How on earth could he be unhappy to welcome a child from her, their child? He had been awful. Maybe her falling was fate punishing him, giving him a good scare to make him reconsider his whole way of thinking, and it worked.

Whatever it was, it was grateful for it: from now on, he would devote his existence to protect Colette and his kids, even the one that was yet to come.

But first, of course, he had to make amends. For real this time, at least to take off some guilt from his shoulders. How could he’d treated her that bad?

“I acted like a cruel bastard, uh?” He sheepishly admitted, his hand leaving hers just to push a lock of dark hair behind her ear.

She didn’t move, sighing at the contact of his warm finger against her skin.   
“No, you were a real _connard_.” She retorted with a snort; she didn’t seem to be mad.

Holt frowned, trying to remember when and if he’d heard that word before. He couldn’t.   
“What does that mean?”

She giggled softly, sporting a foxy smile.   
“You don’t want to know.”

He pursued his lips and nodded; whatever it was, he deserved to be called awful things.

Time seemed to be moving terribly slow and the silence was almost deafening. She almost could see and hear Holt’s fears and worries, which were her own. What would become of them? Did it really matter, when they had everything they needed? Or maybe they needed to cross another barrier first because his reaction had been triggered by the thought of the kids rejecting the idea of a new sibling. What if Holt had been right? Where were they? And more importantly, did they know?

She forced herself not to get too tensed, imagining that stress would be the first thing to avoid, and tried to tell herself that, whatever it was, it would be fine.  
“What about the kids?” She asked timidly, reaching for his hand even before he could answer her question.

Holt smiled straightaway, which calmed her tremendously.   
“I wish they’d found out in a less shocking way,” He snorted, an everlasting smirk painted on his thin lips. “but they’re thrilled to have a baby to play with.”

Colette’s heart skipped a bit at the word. She’d been so scared for so long that she almost forgot that being pregnant implied having a human being inside of her, a living and – not yet – breathing baby. She would be a mother and others had been thrilled even before her. It was unfair, in a way, both for her and the innocent child she was carrying: it deserved to be appreciated and cherished.

She beamed, helplessly, finally feeling free to express her emotions.   
“I told you they would be happy.” She remarked with a little smirk. It was a small payback and she couldn’t resist.

Holt shared her smile. She was right, she told him that he didn’t know his kids well enough and she’d been right. Colette was right about a lot of things.   
“I guess we need to listen to each other a little more.” He suggested. If he only had listened to her, she wouldn't have felt the need to keep the matter a secret, she wouldn’t have had to go through it all alone.

Colette stared at him for a while: it was fair enough. He had warned her since the beginning and she wouldn’t listen to him when he said she couldn’t perform anymore; it had been just to prove him wrong, that she could still do everything because their lives wouldn’t have changed. What a fool she had been. She sighed and nodded slowly.   
“Deal.”

“Deal.” He repeated, bending over her to lay a soft peck on her lips, which she happily returned. “I’m going to tell the others that you’re fine.” He sighed, imagining the whole circus waiting outside the tent, eager to have good news. “Rest.” He suggested with a firm yet kind expression.

He rose up from the bed, but just before he could walk away, he felt her long fingers grasping his wrist.   
“Holt?” She called softly and he stopped immediately, turning back to her. He took a good look at her, trying to catch any sign of discomfort, but she didn’t look in pain, nor worried about anything; her eyes were glowing with a strange light, instead. He smiled and stood there in wait. “ _Je t’aime_.” She murmured.

Holt smile tenderly at her. She never told him she loved him before.   
When he confessed his feelings for her, they kissed so passionately that the words sounded redundant. But now that she was saying those things, he realized how much he needed them. If he didn’t believe that there could be a more beautiful sound, before, than the laughter of Colette and his kids merged together, now it was questioning it.

He bent down over her again and laid a kiss on her forehead.   
“You’ll be the death of me.” He whispered tenderly before leaving to let her rest.

* * *

* _connard_ = jerk  
  
* _Je t'aime_ = I love you


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes.  
> The italics are French words, which are translated at the bottom of the page.

Chapter 10

It was a great day for the Circus, but even a greater one for the Farriers. After the two weeks break that forced Colette to stay in bed, it was clear to everybody that there wouldn’t be a Queen of the Heavens for at least seven more months.

Holt had managed to carry on with his act, improving some horse tricks while he shot at moving targets; the balloons that once lifted Colette’s lyra up in the air, now burst in sequence, freeing thousands of confetti that covered the crowd.   
But they needed new things because the people were getting bored, unfortunately: instead of bringing new stunts, they had lost one of the gems that provided success to the show.

And Colette, of course, after two weeks of complaints, was eager to give her contribution.

Today was the day Max had set for the re-opening and to announce the changes, he had commissioned billboards all over town.

“Calamity Joe and the robotic cowboy.” Holt read again out loud, feeling proud and excited. It was the first narrative performance he did in a very long time and that brought back memories of his wife, when they would play the parts of Annie Oakley and Frank Butler. Acting with his son made him happy, even if he had to play the villain who Calamity Joe had to beat during the final shooting match.

“How’s my costume?” Chirped Joe, emerging from the divider with his costume on. It was a khaki jacket with tassels, high boots with ringing spurs and a wide cowboy hat with a red scarf which Colette had tied around his neck. He also wore an oversize belt with fake bullets in it. He looked adorable.

“It’s perfect.” Holt nodded, wearing the black glove over his robotic hand. The scarce budget left after purchasing Joe’s outfit forced him to dye one of his old costumes, but he didn’t mind as long as his son was happy and satisfied. “You better get ready: warm up with some bottles and show the people how good you are already!” He suggested and Joe stormed out of the tent, eager to start; after a few days of practice, he was already shooting at moving balloons, proving he was a natural. Holt was incredibly proud of him.

The act would have to begin with him shooting at random things with pellets and just before the last, more difficult shot, he would jump in the scene, on his horse at full gallop, challenging the boy at a shooting match to win the prize.

He smiled, following with his eyes as long as he could until the curtains closed and the external world was confined outside the tent again.

Of course, Calamity Joe wasn’t the only big thing at the Circus.

“Colette? Are you ready?” He called impatiently, fidgeting on the spot as he tried to imagine her coming out from the same divider from which Joe emerged before.

Yes, he saw the new costume, but never worn by her. He was still worried, also, because in the past two weeks he’d cared for her completely and he could have her under control, always knowing where she was and what she was doing; today, for the first time, she would be out on her own, working, while he was out too, performing somewhere else, far from her, all the time pretending that everything was fine.

Holt wondered if he could sneak in her small cabin, during the day, only to check on her. But maybe not: it wasn’t convenient. He would simply have to learn how to let her be on her own again, after all, she was a free woman and he had no right to keep her captive. He wanted to protect her in a healthy, caring way, not suffocating her to the point of making her unhappy.

When she finally appeared from the divider, he couldn’t help smiling.   
Her red wig was concealed under a wide blue hair band, which was covered in feather, peacock-themed earrings hanged from her ears, clinking lightly at each movement and a bright colored dress – also blue, yellow and green – was wrapping her figure in several layers of clothes. Her neck, arms, and fingers were full of jewelry, and she was wearing heavy makeup, with dark eyes and black lipstick, as well as her usual star on her cheekbone, but it was a black one, this time.   
Everything about that outfit was highly extravagant but it was also its charm.

“You’re beautiful.” He whispered tenderly, immediately walking toward her to watch her closely.

Colette snorted, half diverted and half disbelieving.   
“I’m not.” She mumbled under her breath. She hated multi-layered clothes since she was used to wearing leotards and really tight costume to show her every move when she was up in the air. But on the other hand, that excessive dress hid her body from indiscreet eyes and it would continue to do it for several months, allowing her to be out in public and continue with performing in the Circus, even if not with her old act.   
Max had assured she would be a success, that she was born for the role, but Colette wasn’t sure. She was scared of failing: her true passion was being an aerialist, but now she needed to put her passion aside, for her child’s and her own safety. And of course she wasn’t the type of woman who sits and waits for the pregnancy to be over chewing on candies: she needed to do something, so she relied on Max. It was temporary; after all, nothing would forbid her to go back to her true passion, once the baby was born.

Holt studied her dense expression for quite some time before gently touching her chin. He didn’t want to mess up with her make-up, but he also wanted to see her eyes: she couldn’t doubt herself, not even for a moment.  
“You’re nervous.” He said.

Colette heaved a sharp breath. It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. He could see right through her, lately: since the accident, they spent a lot of time together and that brought them closer than ever. Honestly, it had been a true blessing for their relationship.   
“Maybe.” She mumbled dismissively. She felt like the first time she performed in front of the big audience of Dreamland or the same knot at the stomach when she performed for the first time with him at the Medici Family Circus: that new act was like the beginning of an era, for her.

“Don’t be.” He reassured, pecking a soft kiss on her lips. He wanted to give her a consoling hug too, but that would likely mess up her dress, so he didn’t. “You’ll be great.”

“I hope so.” She nodded dubiously, slithering her hand under his arm when they heard the faint music coming from the speakers.

“Remember to not stay on your feet too long.” He reminded her, clearing his throat.

Colette let out a peel of laughter.   
“I will be sitting the whole time.” She pointed out.

Holt nodded sheepishly: of course she would, he’d chosen personally the most comfortable and softest chair available. There were no excuses.   
“Ready for showtime, princess?”

Colette smiled and gripped his arm tighter.   
“ _Toujour, mon charmant_.” She replied, making his heart genuinely leap.

She walked out of her tent by his arm, sporting a mysterious and proud smirk and she made her way toward her modest cabin, while Max’s voice roared and spread in the air through the microphones into a distant echo.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Medici Family Circus! Admire Ivan the wonderful and Kathrine the greater; see Rongo, the world’s strongest and most versatile man! Then get bewitched by Miss Atlantis, performing underwater Shakespeare with the world’s only merman, Puck. Visit Milly Farrier’s World of Wonders, where science and technology await! Cheer for the new kid on the block, the skillful Calamity Joe as he defeats the vile robotic cowboy! And for the first time in our circus, from the mystic _bruyèr_ of the Camargue, behold Madame Colette, our mystic fortune-teller. Go to her, and let her read your future. Venite gente, come and meet our family! Make yourself at home, here at the Medici Family Circus – where anything is possible!”

  


When the last show of the day was over, Holt finally could remove his sweaty hat. The sun was all the way down the hill now and the sky was becoming darker by the minute; Milly had already closed her tent and ran off to get ready for dinner and Joe had insisted with cleaning and feeding the horse by himself. Even if it was a big animal, the stallion was well trained and gentle with the kids, so he indulged his son and walked out of the barn. He thought of getting him a pony to improve the action during their stunt, for an instant, then he remembered they didn’t have money for that, at the moment. Maybe one day.

Holt sighed and smiled at every person he met on his path. It was a strange feeling each night, when they would clean everything up for the next show, tomorrow; the loud music would be replaced by a peaceful silence, the laughs and the cheers by tired chats and murmurs and the air would be dense with the smoke of the fireworks. It was perpetual magic: everything now seemed so spent and yet the day after the lights would be on again and the people would scream in delight for them.   
Was there a better life than theirs?

He walked faster toward Colette’s cabin and he distractedly smiled when he saw the wooden billboard at the side, which read ‘Madame Colette: fortune teller’. It had been painted by the kids, which was obvious by up close, where a crooked eye would occupy one corner and a mismatched deck of card the other, all covered with strange symbols that really meant nothing. It was eye-catching, though, and judging by the line of people he’d seen during the whole day, it must’ve been a success too.

He sighed and walked in.   
Her spot was preceded by a small corridor of heavy curtains, to keep the darkness in and the light out. He had to admit that that little walk before entering the real cabin was giving him the right vibes of mystery and occult: Max was a real expert about show business.

Holt made the best effort to enter the cabin tiptoeing, stopping to watch her as she rearranged some trinkets on her round table and blew out some candles.   
The place was small, heavily adorned with dark drapes and exotic things they’d found here and there in some old trunks. The only sources of lights came from the candles, which partially enlightened the scarce furniture there: the chair in which Colette was seated, the low round table full of odd little objects and some pillows on which the guests sat down.

“Madame Colette.” He greeted with a smiled, which turned into a light giggle when she sharply turned to him, looking alarmed.

“Holt.” She sighed. “How long have you been here?” She asked with a frown.

“A couple of minutes.” He confessed with a guilty look. He liked to watch her doing things when she didn’t know he was there. It gave him a sense of peace, somehow, and he would think about a lot of things about their future. “How was your day?” He said finally, walking toward the table and dropped himself on the pillow in front of her.

Colette laid back unceremoniously on her chair, unworried to let out a relaxed moan when she felt the muscles on her back finally relax.   
“I’m exhausted.” She breathed out. “But I’m happy with this new role of mine: it’s fun to know secrets and I also get to meet a lot of people.” She happily stated.

Holt frowned: if there was one thing he didn’t want her to be, was exhausted. Perhaps it wasn’t the best way to start such an act after two whole weeks of bed rest, with very little breaks and confined into a small space with very little light and fresh air, nonetheless, she seemed happy and that was all it mattered for him, honestly.

“So you’re content with this?” He asked, gesturing vaguely around.

Colette nodded, well knowing he just needed to hear it from her lips.   
“It’s not like being up there,” She sighed sincerely. “but it’s fun.”

Holt stared at her for a moment. She really looked like one of those fortune tellers from postcards or those pictures inside the cigarette packages: sophisticated, mysterious, charming, incredibly beautiful and his. He felt lucky.

He struggled to cross his legs on the pillow, the leathers squeaking against his skin, then he got captured by her slender fingers, casually playing with the purple deck of tarots. She was shuffling the cards without even minding her own actions, splitting the deck only to shuffle it again.

It was probably late and they would have to go back to their tent after dinner so she could get some rest before tomorrow, but the truth was that he wanted to stay with her a little longer, just the two of them. And she seemed to feel the same since she wasn’t moving from her chair.

“Cast my tarots.” Holt suddenly proposed. She threw and enigmatic glance at him, he shrugged dismissively. “Read my future, just for fun.”

Colette halted immediately her movements, holding the perfectly even deck within her hands.  
“No.” She simply said, her eyes low. The lonely candle was casting shadows over the table.

Holt snorted in disbelief.   
“You don’t really believe this stuff, do you?” He asked perplexed.

Colette shrugged, suddenly feeling unquiet. She’d spent all day reading people’s future, trying to interpret at her best the cards that came out – two weeks of reading books about tarots were a good training, but the craft wasn’t easy – and she had to lie in more than one occasion, pretending that the death card didn’t always mean bad things. He didn’t want to know anything about Holt or the future, most of all if it were bad news; she didn’t fully believe in the tarots, but it couldn’t be bad or good luck either to get one or the other card.

“Don’t be silly, Colette.” He insisted, an encouraging smile painted on his lips. “We don’t get some cards to decide our fate, princess.” He said firmly. It was true. “C’mon, show me.”

Colette swallowed the lump in her throat. Of course, it was just a stupid game, some other attraction to bring some little extra money to the Circus, and since it was a game, there was no reason not to play – it was on them whether to rely on some inanimate cards or not.

She started to shuffle the cards, then divided the deck into three smaller ones and put it in front of him.   
“So, make your question.”

Holt smirked, bending a little forward.   
“Let’s ask about us.” He proposed.

Colette mimicked his expression. At least it wasn’t something too specific, the interpretations could be many.   
“So, these three decks roughly represent the past, the present and the future. The combination of the three cards that we get will give us a summary of your question and it’s up to me to interpret the final meaning of those three cards.” She explained.

Holt nodded, intrigued.   
“Sounds interesting.” He conceded and, following her instructions, he proceeded with taking the top cards from each deck and made them slide on the table, still covered.

At this point, Colette was curious too about which symbols they would get. When she extended her hand above the first card, her fingers started to itch; she didn’t waste any time reciting silly spells she invented herself for show and carried on, turning the tarot over.   
“The lovers.” She smiled.

Holt immediately matched her happy expression.   
“See? It’s not that bad.” He stated proudly, folding his arm over his chest as he tried to find a more comfortable position over those dreadful pillows.

Colette had relaxed a bit. It was a good card, of course, but even if they would end up getting a negative card – she reminded herself – it was just a game, so no harm would be done. She moved her hand above the second tarot and turned it over. She gasped silently when she saw the figure.   
“Nine of swords.” She murmured flatly, staring at the disturbing image of a girl weeping while being stabbed by nine swords into her chest.

“What does that mean?” Asked Holt almost instantly, ugly thoughts crowding his mind.

“Despair.” She said. Perhaps it was just a coincidence, but it hadn’t come up all day long.

They shared a silent glance, to which Holt felt his stomach constrict: maybe it hadn’t been such a great idea, after all.   
There was only one card left. Colette didn’t think twice before turning it, eager to end that useless torment.   
“The angel.” She breathed out.

Holt sighed at ease.   
“It’s a good thing, right?” He guessed, but his relieved expression changed drastically when he noticed her shaking her head slowly, her eyes grew serious.

“No.” She dimly replied. “It’s upside down.” She pointed out, looking intensely at the image of the angel holding a big sword over a crowd of people. “It’s the Last Judgment. It’s about an adverse reckoning, means punishment for something.”

Colette fell silent for a moment, her heart was racing inside her chest. If she had to tell a client her verdict, she would say that the lovers meant a strong and passionate love, full of torment and agony because of the nine of swords, but because it was in the right position, those woes would be overcome thanks to their love’s strength; as for the angel, the punishment, she would have warned anyone who had asked the question and got that card for answer. Holt had asked that question and Holt had had those answers: lovers in their past, despair in their present and punishment in the form of an angel for their future.  
She felt a cold shiver running up her spine and her hand subconsciously snaked its was done to her stomach, overcome with unforeseen protective instincts. Beneath all those layers of clothes, it was difficult to feel her still soft bump and that feeling made her panic a little, but she struggled not to show him.

Holt seemed to have read her thoughts. He forced himself a small laugh and reached out for her hand, which she immediately held.   
“It’s just a stupid game.” He snorted, but his voice was carrying no emotions.

Colette nodded with a somewhat absent expression. “Of course it is.”

* * *

*  _Toujour, mon charmant_ = always, my prince  
*  _bruyèr_   = moor

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes.

Chapter 11

Life in San Diego was as quiet and satisfying as it could be. The circus was raising money, especially on the weekends and maybe for the first time, Max had talked about staying there on a more permanent basis: maybe a year, or even a bit more if he would find an agreement with the city to stay in a profitable area. For the moment, they would get a lot of people from San Diego and with the spring approaching, a lot of tourists too, some even from distant towns specifically for the Medici Family Circus, which made him particularly proud of his fellows. He also claimed that he didn’t want to travel much with a baby on the way nor with a newborn later, which surprised everyone.

At some point, they could even afford some improvements and some of the train’s carriages were replaced with new ones so that they could serve as storage or small shelter for the artists when they wanted to rest during the day.

Joe continued to practice his shooting skills and he became quite good, sometimes even challenging people from the crowd and beating them regularly.

Milly was making experiments on a daily basis, mixing chemical things to marvel the people and create some magic through science; as a side hobby, then, she kept a notebook where she noted down each development with Colette’s pregnancy, genuinely fearing that none of those books that her father had purchased where nearly as accurate nor useful. Then, keeping a journal was just common sense.

Colette was grateful for it and every night they would take some time to update any change together. It was a great way to bond.

The month after the discovery was the most challenging one: she would often have cramps, following by unpleasant discharges that made her fear the worst each time, the sickness was unbearable and every inch of her body felt sore. The doctor told them that it was just her body trying to cope with the new situation and despite the nightmares in which Colette kept visualizing those dreadful cards spinning around her like the worst of warnings, everything settled down and she could really enjoy being pregnant.

When she reached the fourth month, Milly got frustrated when Colette said she was feeling some movements, from time to time, but the girl couldn’t feel anything, not even when they were cuddling before bed and she would wrap to her with her brother as she told them fairy tales. They also wrote down that one night that Holt had gone with his horse to town, searching for some grape juice and settle her craving – he only returned at dawn and, of course, Colette was soundly asleep by then, and also the morning after she had forgotten the whole matter. The only thing that Colette couldn’t tell Milly to write in her journal, was her sex drive: some days, it wouldn’t show any sign of abating unless she would satisfy that special type of craving with Holt.

As time and weeks passed, she felt both better and worst. Her sickness had decreased, but her belly was now protruding and it was impossible to conceal her state: the women that went into her cabin to have their future told, would ask her question about her baby and she couldn’t concentrate. Then the fatigue came in and she couldn’t even bear half a day in that cramped and dark space.

One day she asked Max if she could stop performing entirely and to her surprise, he accepted right away, his face full of concern when she told him about her migraines and breathing troubles, which made her feel like drowning or like she was simply running out of air. Max even asked her if she wanted to see the doctor again, that he would pay personally, but she shook her head no, touched by his anxiety. She kissed him on both cheeks to thank him and he had melted, smiling dumbly and proudly stating that he felt already felt like an uncle for her unborn child.

By the time of her sixth month or so, she would wander around the circus helping in any way she could. She would escort lost children to their parents or help Max announcing the next show.

Most of the time she would hang in placid places where she would keep her friends and family under control, basking into the peacefulness of the warm and sunny days of late spring. When it was rest-day or a more quiet day, she would gather the kids and teach them things, helping them with their studies.

Throughout the previous weeks, she had experienced movements, but only later she finally accepted those poking as actual kicks and she’d laughed and cried all in once. Milly had written everything down on her notebook and she insisted on taking pictures to testify the changes. Colette had stared at her own image for minutes, frowning as she remembered all those advertisements and billboards back in Dreamland, when Vandevere would put her everywhere to sponsor her act as Queen of the Heavens and she would look fancy and refined and so _petite_ ; and yet she had to admit that she now had a different kind of glow.

When she approached her seventh month, they started to talk about names. They decided that the baby would have both its mother and father’s last names, as for the first, they weren’t sure. Holt had thought for his late wife’s name for a moment, but then he realized it wouldn’t be fair, for Colette, to have a constant reminder of someone who was there before her. They thought about all kinds of popular names for boys and girls, but somehow no one seemed to fit. After all, how could they name someone before even see its face?

Colette was in the middle of her last trimester when she confined herself into their tent, going out so rarely that everybody started to worry, fearing she wasn’t feeling good. She wasn’t at her best, to be honest, but she was as fine as she could be, getting a lot of rest and reading everything she could about babies and cleaning around, multiple times per day.

When they were all together, at evening, she would sing French lullabies and Milly and Joe would often sing silly songs because it seemed that their new sibling loved music, and as soon as they would start to sing, it would start to waddle around, stretching and poking behind Colette’s already tensed skin.

As summer approached, they were all relieved that the temperatures seemed to remain tolerable. Sometimes the doctor that took care of Colette when she fell from the lyra would come to bring his family to the circus and he would spend always a little of his time to chat with Colette, suggesting healthy foods and long strolls as the due date approached.

Despite the uncomfortable pressure she would lament from time to time, now that the baby had settled into the pelvis, preparing for its birth, she could breathe more easily and that relief made her also restless: she would eagerly wait for day off to go out with the kids and wander around the city or the beach. Milly was always raring to go with her and they would talk about all kind of stuff, even France and the places they would see.

It was a quiet day of late July when, for the first time, Holt and Colette split, each taking a kid, and took two different ways. Joe wanted to see the big ships as they entered the harbor, while Milly preferred to go someplace relaxing with Colette to think about her future projects.

So the girl had been left to Colette’s cares.. or was it the other way around, she couldn’t be sure. Yes, Colette was the adult between the two, but she wasn’t so agile lately and if the girl would have decided to run off by herself just for the pleasure to do it, Colette would’ve never been able to stop her. Of course, Milly was too grown up for such things and too refined to behave like a rascal, but she did think about that, once or twice.

She was quite content with strolling by the beach in her hand, instead, chatting about the seagulls and the ocean and Colette would happily listen to everything she had to say about the sea currents and the whale migrations, laughing when she implied the girl was talking about whales because Colette reminded her of one.  
Milly had laughed too and then asked if they could buy some ice-cream. It was fun and convenient, she decided, to go out with a pregnant woman, for she could have easily obtained any food she fancied and normally couldn’t have.

Then they stopped to rest on the beach. It wasn’t a very hot day, despite being summer, and a relaxing breeze would cool the temperature constantly. They took off their shoes and sat down on a nice spot on the beach, a large palm tree casting a shadow right over them.

Milly started to play with the sand, drawing perfect spirals with her finger and trying to make structures with sticks and cracked shells she found around. She promised to always stay close and, suddenly, it came the time hers and Colette’s roles switched: the girl had become the one who had to keep an eye on the woman, for the poor thing had inevitably fallen asleep with her back on the trunk behind her.

The girl sighed. It happened quite a lot lately: they found Colette sleeping in the most random places at the most unusual times on a regular basis and, of course, she couldn’t sleep during the night because she was constantly tossing on her bed as she sought for a comfortable position she was never able to find; so Milly thought it was only sensible to let her rest. They were safe in the middle of the crowded beach and she seemed too peaceful to be disturbed.

Milly just sat beside her, laying on her stomach and propping her chin on her hands, her feet kicking the air behind. She studied her face for quite some time, trying to imagine her own mother there, but she couldn’t and she didn’t even feel sorry.

She felt guilty, then. Was it so wrong to love Colette like a mother? She would have a baby of her own, now, but she always looked so loving and affectionate. And then she hadn’t been jealous of Joe, so why on earth she should’ve been jealous of that new baby? She was superior to those stupid feuds among siblings, because parents love their children equally; the things with babes was that they needed special cares, it was understandable, and she made her pledge to be useful and help a lot with everything, starting with taking care of Colette, even when she just needed supervision.

Milly sighed, satisfied with herself, and lowered her eyes to study her swollen stomach. She was close now, being only a month apart from delivery and her belly was incredibly large and visible. It made her look beautiful, in a way, and by looking at her she felt a deep sense of protection; the same perhaps, that Colette had for her or Joe.

The girl was familiar with the baby kicking, by now, but the movements never ceased to amaze her. At first, Colette would jump and fidget in surprise every time, but now she could ignore everything like it was nothing and keep on sleeping. Milly wondered what was like to have a baby moving around inside you and she shook her head with a little shiver. Then, the thin material of Colette’s shirt moved unequivocally and Milly stared intensely, trying to guess how and when it would move again.

It was like watching a caterpillar moving inside its cocoon right before coming out and become a beautiful butterfly. Milly only hoped that Colette's belly wouldn't explode from the within like a cocoon: that would be horrifying, but of course, that was not like baby were born. Obviously, she knew. It was a silly thought, and yet that baby was moving and growing at a quite alarming rate. It was fascinating.

The girl sighed and made sure that their shoes wouldn't be stolen, then she curled up to Colette’s side and closed her eyes, her lips bent up into a foxy smile as she wondered where her father and brother were at.

Joe had never had any interest in watching the ship getting into the harbor.   
He was happily trotting at his father’s side, following him closely as they walked down the city streets.

When Holt finally stopped, it was to enter into an antique store.   
Joe followed and remembered all his sister recommendations about not letting their father decide impulsively and warned Joe to remind him that it was for Colette, so it had to be something unique and uncommon.

After quite some times, Joe was clutching to his chest the little velvet box, looking up to his father with a perpetual grin he could only share.

Holt felt over the moon and incredibly proud of himself.

Having his third child come into the world out of wedlock wasn’t something that bothered him, nor Colette as far as he knew, but it was something he wanted to do anyway before the baby’s arrival.

There would be time for the actual celebration, years even, but that was a thing that he needed to do now: he wanted to give Colette something special before she could give him the best of blessings and most of all, he wanted to make sure she knew he would've devoted his whole life to her and their baby.

Holt had planned to give her the ring on a very particular occasion, being the week after next a sort of anniversary of their first encounter. He had planned everything, but he couldn’t foresee what would happen in the meanwhile and, of course, fate decided that he had to miss, for the time being, the chance of asking Colette to become his wife.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes.  
> The italics are French words, which are translated at the bottom of the page.

Chapter 12

The howling wind was shaking the tent, making the poles tremble and squeak. It would've been an alarming noise if it hadn't been covered by the burst of the thunderbolts, getting louder now, as the storm approached.

But of course, the most agonizing sounds came from within.

When the roaring of the lightning ended, Colette’s deep and prolonged grunts continued, abusing the silence that would’ve fallen, instead. The rain would be a soothing sound against the water-proof material of which the tent was made, but everything, that night, was far from soothing.

Holt would pace nervously up and down, the kids were curled up one against the other, knees up in Milly’s bed, looking frightened and gazing blankly around, jumping at every foreign noise. Some people from the circus were coming and going into their tent and frankly it was getting annoying, being intruded into their home by so many people, but of course Colette needed as much help possible and, unluckily, she couldn’t be useful, having read about the matter only once or twice in books; theory was a thing, practice another.

Miss Atlantis was the one who stayed the most and also Mei, one of the Chinese artist, who had four children of her own, but they decided that the circus wasn’t for them and chose different lives. She had experience and thus, by far, it was the best they could provide.

Milly felt positively scared. She didn’t remember much about Joe’s birth, because she was so young and honestly she even doubted she stayed in the same room; of course her brother had no idea of what was going on whatsoever and neither their father – well, knowing him he would’ve been out with his horses, too worried to assist, both of the times.

It was going on for what it seemed like ages, but instead, it was only a couple of hours. It all started in the middle of the night: she slowly awoke from her slumber to the dense talking of her father and Colette, who was surprisingly sitting in the middle of their bed, the candle lightened up on the bedside table, casting flickering shadows over her large belly. She was lamenting something.   
When Milly shook her brother awake, they both heard her moaning in pain and their father jumping out of the bed in alarm. So they knew it had begun, somehow.

Milly stared and grimaced in sympathy when she saw Colette doubling over the table, grasping the edge for support. Holt hurried to her side, but she shooed him off. The girl would’ve laughed, any other time, but someone had dragged Max inside their tent.

It was always fun to see such a small man in his pajamas, looking confused in the middle of the night, only half-awake as he yelled at anyone who woke him up. Then he fell silent as soon as he realized what was going on.

Milly felt uncomfortable having him, a man that was not her father, inside their tent in such a delicate situation, but she supposed he was the boss, so he had to be informed.

“The baby!” Max whispered excitedly, but Miss Atlantis’ preoccupied glance forced him to focus on more pressing matters: it wasn’t a new elephant calf about to come, it was a human and it needed special cares. Especially that baby, since it hadn’t been the easiest of pregnancies, everybody knew that.

“Max, we need to fetch the doctor!” Miss Atlantis cried.

Milly tensed a little bit at that. Something in the woman’s voice was off and Mei wasn’t saying anything like a doctor was indeed required. She had done her math and according to what Colette had said, it was a bit early for the baby to come – almost three weeks; but it wouldn’t be a problem, right? She kept saying that to herself, even if the little voice within her brain told her she knew the actual truth. For once, knowledge wasn’t a blessing.

Max panicked, his feet pounding the ground as he got frustrated.   
“How?” He snapped, gesturing around. “It’s pouring outside!”

Milly saw her father stop his pacing. Colette let out a suffering moan as Mei tried to calm her down with long circles on her back.

“Well, I don’t have a lot of experience with special deliveries.” The woman pointed out, glaring at Max while keeping her voice steady not to upset Colette. “Things can get rough, you know.”

Milly wanted to scream. Why nobody was doing something? Why would nobody help Colette? What would become of her and the baby?

It was then that Holt shook himself out of his daze and took his raincoat from the chair.  
“I’m taking the horse.” He announced, but just as he was storming out of the tent, Colette gripped him by his arm, stopping him with a desperate hold.

“Don’t bother.” She panted, as she tried to stabilize her own voice. “I’d rather have you here, please.” She begged. Her long fingers were eagerly wrinkling the sleeve of his coat, the cloth crumpling within her fist. “Women are giving birth on their own for centuries.”

Holt glared.   
“Yes,” He snapped. “and they die too!”

Milly jumped on her feet, dragging Joe with her. Die? Nobody had ever talked about dying! Was that really a possibility? She knew about screams and blood and pain, but she didn’t consider death. Losing the baby? That was terrible, but losing Colette? Or worse, both? It was far more than she could bear.

“Max, take the kids with you.” Ordered Holt in haste. And the chubby man hurriedly walked to them, gesturing to follow him – even if he was smiling, his attempt to reassure them was really disappointing.

“We don’t want to go!” Objected Milly, frowning with intent. She wasn’t sure that Joe wanted to stay or leave, actually, but she imagined that if one of them would follow Max out, then the other would have to go too. She stomped her foot, making her intentions well known: she would claw to the very ground if someone had tried to carry her out.

But then, something unexpected happened, something that Milly couldn’t foresee. It was something she didn’t consider and also the only thing that could convince her to go.

“Please, _mes petites_.” Colette said through a weary smile. “I can’t bear the frightened look on your faces.”

Milly wanted to scream that, no, she wasn’t frightened at all, but she guessed that her face was talking in her behalf, and Joe’s too because he seemed more terrified than ever.   
The girl gaped, not entirely sure what she should say.

“I promise everything will be alright.” Said Holt with a reassuring nod.

Milly stared: her father didn’t know that. Actually, nobody knew anything; but she realized that she was wasting time with her stubbornness. She was just a girl, after all, she couldn’t do anything else but worrying and distracting Colette with her presence as she struggled not to show her that she was in pain. She sighed and held her bother’s hand, running to Max, who wrapped them within his arms and escorted them out, shielding them from the rain with his red jacket.   
Milly strove not to turn back as they exited, for a long wail melted with the blast of thunder.

“Colette, dear, I know it’s hard but I really need you to focus on your breathing.” Mei admonished, still talking with a reassuring voice, while her hand moved with wide circles on her back.

Holt was staring at the scene, feeling useless and anguished. He really wanted to help, but he feared to do something wrong: what if he hurt the baby while holding her? What if he made her anxious while trying to comfort her? He wasn’t made for that: he was a man – for god’s sake – and therefore impressionable and weak when it came to blood, and there would be much blood involved.

He felt fainting but fought back the dizziness because he needed to be strong for Colette, or at least, try to.   
“What can I do?” He finally asked, and his voice came out quivery; he didn’t care.

“Well, talk to her.” Mei proposed, and he chose to ignore the irked voice like she was telling something obvious. Maybe it was, but he wasn’t prepared for anything.

Holt walked closer to her, standing by her side as she gently swayed, doubled over the table, riding off a contraction. He kissed her temple, but she didn’t even flinch, so he started to indeed talk to her, close to her ear, all the while controlling his own breaths; he smiled when he realized that she was mimicking his breathing. Even if it was something unintentional on her part, it was helping and Holt felt proud.

At one point, he even took Mei’s place and started to work on the small of her back, trying to ease the pain from her sore muscles. Holt’s heart was racing and his mind was crowded with all sorts of thoughts; he spoke softly into her ear for what it seems like ages and suddenly he wondered how much time it had actually passed.

Colette seemed to suffer more frequently and she was now rocking her pelvis restlessly in the desperate attempt to ease her discomfort. He and Mei exchanged a glance when she screamed once more and, for the first time, her knees seemed to give in.

Holt supported her promptly, adverting instinctively his eyes when he noticed Mei’s hand slither with confidence under Colette’s nightgown, to feel supposedly between he slightly parted legs.

“You’re almost ready, dear.” Mei sentenced with a tensed smile, which Colette struggled to return. “Would you like to move to the bed?”

Colette nodded with eagerness.

They were about to escort her for the narrow distance that separated them from the bed when the sound of splashing water made them all froze. Colette gasped in surprise, while Holt looked down in horror, feeling faint again.

“No panic.” Exhorted Mei, urging them to get to the bed. “Means we’re about to welcome a new baby soon.” She smiled, eyeing casually the puddle they’d left behind. “We’ll get that later.” She murmured dismissively.

Mei made Colette settle down on the edge of the bed, while Holt supported her from behind. They had nothing better, no doctors, no midwife, and no medicines, but they would do fine nonetheless. She sighed and positioned herself on a chair in front of Colette, one hand reassuringly leaning on her knee.

“Try to relax, dear. It may take a while.”

And a while it took, actually, much more than a while. Miss Atlantis had come and gone multiple times to check on them and to report the news to the anxious kids, which, unfortunately, were always the same.

Holt was tired and stressed as ever due to the continuous worrying and he just couldn’t imagine how exhausted Colette would feel, fighting each contraction and spasm of her body. She was drenched in her own sweat and Holt made his best effort to rinse her forehead and dab her chest with fresh and clean water, trying to bring her some relief.

He couldn’t quite put his mind around the thought that, soon, he would’ve welcomed a new life into the world, his child – it was something foreign and distant, while Colette suffering was very much present and real. And still, all that pain was for their child to be born.

He sighed, feeling somewhat calmer when he finally could imagine himself holding a little creature, still gender-less, while kissing Colette and thanking her for such blessing.

So, when Mei moved forward, dipping her hand into a bucket of clean water for good sense, he felt his heart genuinely leaping; he held Colette close to him protectively, trying to pass her down some of his strength, hoping he could remove some of her pain in exchange. Mei’s hands disappeared somewhere under the stained nightgown.

“You need to push when you’re ready, dear.” Mei urged. “The baby’s crowning.”

Holt felt Colette tremble within his hold, tossing her head to one side as she grunted in pain. He tried to kiss her on the cheek, reassure her, but this time it didn’t work. Another contraction hit her, harder than ever before, and a tormented scream escaped her clenched teeth. Mei stood still, her eyes extremely focused.

Colette felt like she was inside an endless limbo. For as much as she breathed and pushed, nothing really happened. Her body seemed to have a will on its own, convulsing and hurting her constantly; she tried to fight those pains, she tried to embrace them, but it didn’t seem to make any difference either way.

It was only at dawn that things moved forward. Finally, she felt a great pressure as the small body dropped further into the birth canal and each push she gave eventually became of use. She struggled to listen to Mei’s direction, but she couldn’t at some point, as her own body took over.

She didn’t even know when she was screaming anymore, cursing in French or English, remembering all the swearing Vandevere would use to pronounce even, and then her mind went blank for an instant, her whole body bending over as she bore down one last time through a mighty scream.

When she opened back her eyes, she couldn’t see anything but blurred images, tears streaming down her cheeks as she panted, the odd feeling of hollowness invading her body.

“It’s a girl.” She heard Mei saying, but her voice wasn’t as happy as she expected. Neither Holt was laughing or cheering.

Colette tried to blink, terror spreading through her. But even if she only could hear muffled sounds, there was a high-pierce cry, so her baby wasn’t stillborn.

She struggled to breathe more regularly, gripping everything within her reach to prop herself up despite feeling exhausted and incredibly sore.

"Where is she?" She asked through a scratchy voice, her vocals having been abused through her continuous screams. But there were hurried movements and she stared blankly around in confusion.

Colette heard a clean cut and she imagined that they separated them, at last, by cutting the umbilical cord; the only thing still binding directly her to her baby gone forever in a snap. She felt a great sense of sadness invading her, but her fear was greater.

Mei covered the baby entirely, keeping the wailing newborn from her eyes. Her heart shattered while hearing those cries: her baby was calling for her and nobody was listening, not even Holt seemed to care. Why, why would they keep them apart?

Before she could even realize what was going on, Colette found herself lying in bed. She stubbornly leaned against some pillows, rubbing her eyes to get rid of those tears. Maybe they were just cleaning the baby, but why all the mystery? Why those faces? Why did she have that dreadful feeling at the pit of her stomach?

Colette stared at the two people chatting closely, giving her their backs as they tend the newborn with care, then Holt finally decided to turn.

“Holt?” She called, as loud as her battered voice allowed her. “Tell me what’s going on. Bring her to me, I want to see her.” She pleaded. “Please give me my baby.”

Holt felt his heart constrict at those words. He sighed and took the baby from Mei’s protective arms. He was walking slowly, rocking imperceptibly the newborn as he took her to her mother. He looked afraid, scared and extremely sad.

Colette didn’t understand why was he acting so strange. She was alive, she had strong lungs, and her scrunched up face was poking out of the blanket she was wrapped in and she seemed to be healthy enough, even if her skin was flushed as she screamed fiercely.

Even if not physically anymore, she instantly felt bound to that screeching little creature.

Holt sat on the edge of the bed in silence and, tentatively, passed the baby over.

Colette felt her heart stop as she watched her little daughter in awe and smiled tenderly at her when she finally calmed herself within her mother’s embrace. She marveled at her dark hair, wondering what color her eyes might be and her finger brushed against her chubby newborn cheeks. The baby stirred and yawned, keeping her eyes tight close.

Then, her little fists poked out of the blanket and, transfixed, Colette loosened her grip; the blanket fell off, revealing the small naked body that was curling up against her breasts.

Translucent membranes of skin webbed her toes and fingers, connecting each together.

“It’s syndactyly.” Whispered Holt sorely. “My grandma suffered the same condition.” He revealed. Their daughter was healthy, despite everything, but she was broken, in a way, just like all of them.

He’d feared Colette’s reaction to the child, so he had taken time to decide the best way to present the baby to her, but of course, there wasn’t a right way and neither the need to find one.  
That woman never ceased to surprise him, not even in the most unexpected situations.

“Why would you keep her from me? She’s perfect.” Colette whispered, her heart bursting with love. She bent down and kissed her little forehead protectively. “ _Ma petit canard_.”

* * *

*  _mes petites_ = my little ones  
* _Ma petit canard =_ my little duckling

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes.  
> The italics are French words, which are translated at the bottom of the page.

Chapter 13

They called her Isabelle.

All the circus fell in love with her soon after she came into the world, the news spreading quickly as everyone seemed to be awake, silently and impatiently waiting into the main tent, some trying to get the kids distracted, others trying to sneak closer Holt and Colette’s tent to get information, since only Miss Atlantis had been allowed in.

After those rough hours, the time had seemed to stop. Milly and Joe had refused to leave Colette’s bed and they all fell asleep curled to her, one for each side, as Isabelle slept on her mother’s chest, undisturbed.

Since the first day, it was clear that she was a good baby, never fussing or causing trouble and she would only cry when she needed to be fed, which happened every couple of hours. Isabelle would latch eagerly to suck on Colette’s breast as she sang lullabies to her.

The baby was also extremely curious and fascinated by everything around her. Even if her eyes couldn’t define shapes and colors and she would often stare blankly at the candles that burned at night, she seemed to have an interest in everything that moved or made sounds. She would stare at everyone cooing on her indiscriminately, but she seemed to have developed a particular obsession with her mother since the first few hours of her life – understandable, to Holt’s judgment – Colette would cradle her and tell her all sort of things and Isabelle would gaze at her with her baby-blue eyes wide open.

Her condition, of course, had been the main talk for an hour, then everyone stopped, quickly forgetting the membranes that webbed her tiny fingers and rather discuss upon her beauty and resemblance to her mother – luckily, as many stated, laughing without malice.

Max had called the day off and every show was canceled so Isabelle’s first day on earth wouldn’t be already full of chaos and blasting fireworks – even if she would probably be accustomed to it since she’d taken part of every show from her mother’s belly – and Colette and Holt, as well as the kids, took advantage of the quiet to get to know the newborn.

Her life was pretty uneventful, of course, but they would all endeavor to provide her a good distraction. All in all, she would be quite content sleeping on her mother’s chest most of the time.

And then there was Holt, who seemed to be completely taken by his little daughter. Seeing him with her as he walked around the tent after she’d taken her milk, would made the new mother’s heart ache with love; while Colette would call Isabelle _ma petite canard_ , he would call affectionately his little duckling instead and the name seemed to feet perfectly, not only for her peculiar condition, but even because her skin was soft like a baby chicken's feathers. If only she could, Colette would’ve stopped time and she would cuddle all day long with them and the kids and never let them go.

Colette loved her role as a mother. She had had time to practice with the kids, but a newborn was both more complicated and easier at the same time: Isabelle only had basic needs, but she was totally dependent by her cares.

She felt happy and, without flatter her own ego, she considered herself quite a good mom too, always knowing what was going on with her and waking straight away when she needed to be fed during the night – she doubted she would always be so fresh and prompt in the next months, but for the time being, she felt positively lively, eager to experience everything about her daughter.

It was early morning when she woke up to the slight discomfort of her aching breasts. She had almost got used to the general soreness, but she couldn’t ignore when the pain was caused by her daughter being hungry. She couldn't quite remember the last time she ate, but she remembered being at dawn; she blinked at the other side of the bed and, seeing it empty, she imagined it was indeed morning, so she would’ve been hungry again over the next few minutes.

Colette waited, half asleep, constantly reminding herself to stay awake, ready to scoop the baby up and avoid her crying too much when there was no use. But Isabelle didn’t cry.

Colette grunted, pushing herself up into a sitting position and made sure that everything was fine. She smiled when she was the bundle of white linens in the basket that Holt had settled next to the bed, so it would’ve been easier for her to tend to Isabelle, since she was recovering from the birth and had been forbidden to get out of bed for a few days.

She stretched her arm, eager to feel her small body with her hand, but instead, she felt a pang of horror and pure fear when her hand flattened completely the blanket. Colette pulled the white cloth and her eyes settled on the empty basket.

Colette hardly suppressed a whimper as she got up, staggering barefoot outside the tent. Holt would never take the baby out without telling her and the kids were working on their own projects and they weren’t allowed to carry Isabelle around on their own, yet.

She felt hot tears stinging her eyes and she sniffled as she tried to pushed them back, her whole body shaking with despair as she reached the barn. She crossed path with some of the other performers, who would ask in concern what she was doing up, but she would ignore them, continuing to stumble over her own feet as she walked.

She entered the barn as a fury, almost slumping against the door. She clawed the wood to support herself, her frantic eyes wide as she searched around, maybe expecting to find her laying on a bunch of hay somewhere.

“ _Mon bébé_.” She stammered, getting Holt’s attention. “She’s gone.” She breathed out in a sort of trance, her voice slightly chanting.

Holt halted immediately, looking at her as if she was a vision. She frowned and run to her, dropping at once the bag of horse food he was carrying.

“Colette, calm down.” He said reassuringly, immediately by her side, wrapping his arm around her waist, trying to support some of her weight. “What are you talking about, and what are you doing out of bed?” He admonished feeling her leaning into his embrace as she struggled to keep her balance on her unsteady her legs.

Colette shook her head as she clung to him, hot tears freely streaming down her face.

“She’s gone, I tell you!” She choked out. “I went to take her from her basket and Isabelle wasn’t there.”

Holt’s heart dropped at the pit of his stomach as well. She couldn’t just be gone, not with all those people around! Somebody would have screamed for sure. Isabelle was there when he left, and outside everyone was already getting prepared: if someone had taken the baby from her basket, it had to be one of the crew, if not.. even its captain.

“Come.” Encouraged Holt with a firm voice, almost lifting Colette up as they left the barn.

Holt was rushing, almost dragging Colette as she struggled to keep up, desperately clinging to his neck as they crossed the circus; he asked everyone where Max was, then if anyone had seen someone taking Isabelle, just in case, until Puck answered, both calming their troubled spirits and enraged them.

“I thought you knew!” Defended the man. “Max said you gave him permission so I said nothing.” He replied frantically, his eyes wide fearing he’d done something wrong.

They didn’t even thank him, continuing their furious walking toward Max’s trailer.

They both stared in horror, almost petrified when they finally found him. Isabelle was screaming on top of her lungs as Max held her rather unceremoniously up, her head tilted awkwardly to the side while her limbs were stretching and kinking desperately the air.

Rongo was there too and he threw a guilty, yet irked glance as he held a paintbrush, half-hidden behind a brand new billboard. Holt was glad someone was finding it wrong, but being vexed was not enough – why didn’t anybody thought of calling them? Max’s word had been enough for everyone to make the others think he and Colette were alright with that? What kind of parents could agree with torturing their child like that? How dared him?

“Max, what are you think you’re doing?” Barked Holt immediately.

“Holt!” Greeted the chubby man, like nothing wrong or strange had remotely happened. How could he even think that stealing a baby from her basket without the parents knowing was alright?

Holt frowned, snatching the baby from his arms and giving her immediately to Colette.   
She held Isabelle tightly at her chest, her heart finally at ease having her daughter secured within her arms. As always, the baby calmed down, curling up to her mother’s bosom, her little nose eagerly pressed on her skin as her head settled comfortably in the crook of her neck. Colette rocked her gently, her hand cradling her little daughter protectively, her fragile skull almost disappearing behind her palm.

“You better have a good explanation this time.” Warned Holt, throwing a warning glare.

Max fidgeted nervously, his eyes guilty and yet aflame, like every time he had something astonishing in mind, most of the time involving the circus and new performances and improvements: last time, it was Circus on Ice.

“Hear me out, first.” Max cried out, suddenly agitated. “That new Barnum in Tijuana has aerialists, contortionists, and clowns, along with a bearded lady singer, a four-legged girl juggler, and three Tom Thumbs doing magic tricks.” He listed, keeping track with his fingers. “The people flocks to him, he’s ruining me- us! Maledetto.”

Holt stared, transfixed. He was starting to comprehend his sick idea, but he didn’t want to believe that Max, a long time friend and mentor, had fallen in such despair and was ready to exploit a newborn just for venal interests.

“We’re not a freak show!” Holt retorted.

“Not yet!” Replied Max with enthusiasm. He was smiling, feeling clearly proud of himself, but Holt only wanted to strangle him with his bare hands.

“Not with my daughter.” He shook his head, his voice cracking in fear and defeat. He could’ve protested and yelled and fought everyone, but in the end, Max was the boss, so he had to have the last word on everything.

Was that the warning he’d got months before? Was that his despair announced by the nine of swords, his punishment in the form of an angel? Why Isabelle had to pay, put out on display for the people to see? His daughter was a beautiful baby, not an object and neither she was something monster to study. What that what really the show business had become?

Out of the blue, a sound caught their attention, ending the fight immediately.   
“ _Oui_.” Murmured Colette surprisingly, her voice carrying no emotion. “I’ll make a feather costume for her and we’ll present her as the ugly duckling.”

Max clapped once his hands enthusiastically.   
“Brilliant!” He cried out, then he turned to Rongo “Get the billboard ready, veloce!”

Holt felt completely lost. He thought he knew everything and once again he felt like the world was collapsing atop of him; only the day before, he’d been blessed with the arrival of his daughter and now life was challenging him stronger and more cruelly than ever.

He walked closer to Colette, wrapping her slender shoulders with his arm as he tried to steady her, her legs still incredibly unstable. She was shaking from head to toe, but she was showing no intentions to move.

“Colette, what are you doing?” He asked with a gentle voice, tears threatening to escape his eyes any moment now. She looked so upset, maybe she didn’t even realize what she had agreed on.

Colette looked straight into his eyes and there was no shadow of doubts, there.   
“Don’t you see, Holt?” She said, her voice just above breath. “We need to raise enough money for surgery and remove these membranes from her hands and feet. The Circus is currently losing more than we make and you know, just as well as I do, how show business works.” She sighed, her eyes watery. “It may not be orthodox, but it’s our only chance.”

  


Colette woke up in the middle of the night to somebody shaking her fiercely. She looked around confused, her mind struggling to get out of sleep, the dreams replaced by alarming thoughts about Isabelle or the kid’s safety.

“I’m sorry.” Holt whispered to her, his face was agitated, but nor fearful. “Take Isabelle, I’ll wake the kids.” He instructed and she, in a daze, did as she was told, not asking for any explanations.

Holt collected some of their clothes and slammed the ball of garments into a suitcase, then hurried to the kids’ bed, waking them up too.

“Pack your bags.” He told them, his voice firm and commanding. “We’re leaving.”

Joe and Milly exchanged a perplexed glance as they sat up in their bed, rubbing furiously their eyes to fight off the sleepiness.

Holt gathered other more things before going back to their bed, where Colette was watching at him confused, lulling a sleeping Isabelle on her shoulder.   
“Holt? _A_ _ _rrête__ _._ ” She spoke dimly. “Are we fleeing int the middle of the night like thieves?” She drew a nervous breath. “What about the show, we don’t have money!”

He showed her no emotion, just a really serious expression.   
“We need to go.” He explained. “Think about it: if Isabelle becomes famous, Max will never give us the money for the surgery, he will keep her like that to get more money from her. We’re never going to end it.”

Colette stared back, considering fully his words. Sadly, he was right: it was a vicious cycle.  
“Where are we going?” She asked with a shaky voice.

“Europe.” He said tentatively, shrugging his shoulder dismissively. It didn’t really matter as long as they would be far away from the Circus, for the time being.

“France?” Asked Colette hopefully, hardly concealing the slight glow in her eyes.

He smiled.   
“Maybe.” He conceded, but he couldn’t be sure: they may not have enough money to go to France yet, all the tips and savings could be barely enough for four tickets for the cheapest passenger liner.

“When are we leaving?” She asked then, trying not to overthink that decision. If she indeed had started to consider all the things they were going to face, and all those they would’ve left behind, she would probably lose all the courage and begged him to stay and find something else to solve the matter.

“As soon as the kids are ready.” He announced, waiting patiently for her as she wrapped Isabelle into her blanket. Holt went by her side and helped her out of bed. “I know you’re still hurting, but we need to get to the harbor before dawn, so we can board on the first ship. We need to walk.”

“ _Je vais le faire._ ” She nodded confidently. “I will do it.” For Isabelle, she would do anything as she would've done anything for Holt or the kids. Her pain was tolerable and she would have time to recover, later.

She pushed herself up and clung to Holt as he helped her dress, gritting her teeth as she got ready to leave, carrying as much as she could along with the baby.

“Can’t we even say goodbye?” Whined Joe, struggling to pull up his backpack filled with fake guns and flat balloons.

Holt shook his head, laying a kiss atop of his hair.   
“I’m afraid not, buddy.”

“We’re never coming back, Joe.” Stated Milly dryly, then, she shot up her head to look at her father with her grown up look. She gave him a little wrinkled pamphlet that read all the timetables of the San Diego’s harbor, ships, destinations, all. Holt looked at her, baffled and impressed at the same time. “I thought one day we could go to Pramesh and see how Dumbo’s doing.” She said with a satisfied smile. “There’s a ship going to India every Friday at 6 o’clock in the morning. They transport tea back and forth but sometimes they also serve as passengers liner.”

Holt took a deep breath and turned to Colette.   
It was Friday and it was around 4 o’clock in the morning. They could still make it and leave all behind: the circus, the glamour, the acts, the shine, all their world, and lives, maybe for good.   
“What do you think?” He asked with a little frown.

Colette nodded slowly. She had been a performer all her life and with one little decision, she was changing the course of their destinies. All for that little creature she was holding? Could she sacrifice Milly, Joe and Holt’s happiness and home for a baby?

“Your whole lives are here.” She mumbled, drawing halted breaths. “This is your home.”

“Home is where the family is, Colette.” Holt reminded her with a hint of a smile.

Milly and Joe smiled as well, dropping everything to go to her, hugging her and beaming at their little sister as she still slept, peacefully unaware of the chaotic world surrounding her.

“It will be an adventure, Isa.” Cooed Joe as he stood up on his toes, to peck the lightest kiss on the baby’s cheek. “We’re a family and we love each other very much and we don’t need anything else. We’ll figure something out, you see, like we always did.” He said reassuringly. “But for now, we’ll take you to India and you’ll meet the most incredible little elephant and you’ll have so much fun, I promise. You, me, Milly and dad and maman.”

Colette hardly restrained her tears. Nobody had ever called her that before and the fact that Joe had used the French version she’d taught them once long ago, made her even more emotional; it was such an important moment for them all: she always felt she belonged to that family, but now it was like all the barriers had fallen down. Those kids were so pure an innocent and so full of love that she couldn’t help loving them twice as much.   
She leaned down and laid a kiss on each of their heads.

Holt felt like his heart had doubled in size. He’d never been more proud of his kids, putting their own needs and dreams behind in order to save their sister from a cruel fate. He didn’t deserve them. He scooped all their bags up and kissed Colette’s temple as he urged them outside, hoping to give her some courage and strength.

“Let’s go now.” He sighed, forcing himself to not look back. “We have a long journey ahead of us.”

* * *

* _Mon bébé_ = my baby

* [Maledetto, Italian for _that bloody man_ ; Veloce for _quick_ ]

* _A_ _ _rrête__ = stop

* _Je vais le faire_  = I'll do it

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes.  
> The italics are French words, which are translated at the bottom of the page.

Chapter 14

Usually, people would dream to run away _with_ the circus and yet they were running _from_ it.

In the middle of the night, with more bags than they could carry, wrapped in clothes too heavy for the season, two kids and a wiling newborn, Holt and Colette hurriedly walked through the city streets, encouraging Milly and Joe to keep up every so often.

It seemed like they were living in a dream, or a distant memory, something that wasn’t really happening. They were about to leave everything behind: the circus, their fellow companions, the inventions, some of the props, the horses even. They were leaving their lives in there, everything they were.

All of them, in different ways, they were born and raised into a circus, they had been performers their whole lives, and now they were just fugitives, running away from their own people while seeking for a better chance.

Being performers made them all strong and easily adaptable: they needed to live life day by day, for the show business was a very frail and petty world, the crowd loving you on one day and getting bored of your acts on the next. No having a stability of any sort was the first thing to learn, always be prepared for anything and yet, that adventure was the biggest and the scariest of all.

They were leaving everything behind without the shadow of a plan. Yes, they wanted to run away and spare Isabelle a life as a monster, but they didn’t have the latest idea where to go or what to do. Perhaps they really could go to India for the time being and find some jobs there and raise enough money to buy tickets for Europe, perform on the streets like Colette used to did when she was younger and desperate.

She didn’t want that for Milly and Joe, though, she knew what it was like.   
Isabelle was young, she wouldn’t be able to perform if not as a freak indeed – and that, of course, was positively out of question –, but the kids would have to take care of their sister, therefore be out with them, calling the crowds, offer their hats and collect the clinking coins. They would be barely more than beggars, perform in exchange of money – maybe it would've been better to stay at the circus and just bite the bullet.

But no, now it had become a matter of pride, in a way, especially for Holt. He would never accept such a fate for his daughter and he would prefer to starve rather than have Isabelle in a feather costume behind glass as people marveled or laughed or recoiled at the sight of her hands. Everything was better than that, even the unknown.

Colette loved him and trusted him, the kids were happy as long as they were together, so it would be a welcomed sacrifice. Who knew what would they find in India? Maybe their life’s opportunity was waiting just for them.

They boarded on the ship, begging the captain to take them with him to India. He was a good man, half moved by their pleading looks and half weakened by the presence of the two kids and the newborn, he took them in for just a small fee in exchange.

They were on board a few minutes after and at dawn, they were silently waving goodbye at San Diego and to the Medici Family Circus, perhaps for good. Being the only passengers on the ship granted them privileges and they were offered one of the largest cabin available. They were thankful and but also so extremely worn out by their running and tension, that they immediately curled up in their bunks and quickly drifted to sleep.

Next day, it was like they were always lived on the ship. The memory of the circus and what everything they’d left behind was distant, almost blurred, as it had happened years ago. Surprisingly and luckily, the upcoming adventure had been enough to replace sadness with excitement; for now, they even doubt they would miss their old selves along with their friends, but for that, one day, they could've sent letters and pictures of them as they grew older and stronger as a family.

As days passed, everything went smoothly and peacefully. Isabelle didn’t fancy the daily walks on the deck, for the wind blowing was perhaps too strong or loud for her, while Milly and Joe were curious about everything about the ship. Joe would often hang out with some sailors who worked down at the engines, while Milly was drawn by everything that involved the tracing of the route and reading maps and she was unofficially named the captain’s vice by the captain himself.

That gave Holt and Colette much time to spend by themselves. She had recovered completely from the birth and the baby was growing steadily, learning a little of the world each day. He would watch in awe as that crazy reality became easily their routine and their days were strictly organized following the tight schedule of the crew.

Their favorite moment of the day – except for Isabelle – was their afternoon stroll. Every sailor was occupied with his chore and they could freely walk and have the entire deck for them. Milly and Joe would often play on the floor also, reading tales while they kept an eye on the basket where Isabelle laid, usually fussing around. The wind bothered her, but the sun was good for her, so they always made sure she was well wrapped up in her blanket so she could stay out with them and take benefit from the sea breeze.

Colette sighed, her eyes narrowed as the clear light harassed her eyes, smiling soon after when she saw the kids waving back at her from not far. They were caught up in a dense conversation on about God-knows-what and they would often question Isabelle too, trying to interpret her coos to their convenience. She then cautiously tilted her head, only to see Holt by her side, staring at her with a transfixed smile.

She mirrored his expression, feeling her heart leap. Even if everything was on stake, the future uncertain, she was feeling happier than ever and as peaceful as she could be: her family was safe, excited for the new adventure and her love for Holt grew each day a little stronger. She couldn’t think of anything that could make reality better, honestly.

“What?” She finally asked, when her cheeks started to ache from the too much smiling.

“A week ago we didn’t even meet Isabelle yet and now we’re traveling to India on a ship that carries tea.” He said with a disbelieving, little snort. “It sounds so crazy.” He sighed and shifted closer to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders to keep the flapping jacket in place on her back. “And for a strange reason, I’m not scared, not at all.” He got even closer to her and pecked quickly her jaw.

“We’ve got everything we need.” Replied promptly Colette, leaning into his embrace.

“And yet,” Holt suddenly said, stretching his neck to take a better look at her face. “I feel there’s something bothering you.”

Colette frowned.   
“Me?” She asked, befuddled. “ _Je ne sais pas_.” She murmured, snapping her blue eyes into his, sporting a genuine curious expression.

“There’s something you’re not telling me.” Suggested Holt with a smirk, but she just stared back at him blankly. He giggled and shook his head. “Isn’t it someone's _anniversaire_?” Asked with a somewhat rhetoric inflection, his attempt in pronouncing that french word absolutely dreadful. Colette appreciated it nonetheless before focusing on the real meaning of that phrase. She panicked for a moment, fearing she might’ve forgotten one of the kids’ birthdays or Holt’s, then she realized he was talking about her own.

Her birthday had never been a matter of celebration: when she was a girl, her parents had so little that having presents made her feel guilty and then they died and she had no one to celebrate with; with Vandevere it was all about gifts, instead. He would give her sparkly dresses and expensive jewels just to make her know that she belonged to him and each year she would only feel like his mistress and nothing more.

And now, everything had moved so fast that she had no time to remember her birthday. Life with Holt and the kids was wonderful and pregnancy made her feel over the moon, too impatient to meet her child, her own flesh and blood, a little creature that was entirely hers to love and cherish that her own birthday hadn’t been contemplated.   
“I completely forgot.” She confessed sincerely in a sort of a daze. “How do you know it’s my birthday, anyway?”

Holt shrugged, pointing at Mily and Joe, who were playing still, completely unaware of their conversation.   
“They told me.”

Colette put her hand on her hip and glared, faking annoyance.   
“How do they know, then?”

Holt shook his head gravely.   
“I don’t have the latest idea.” He admitted. Honestly, he was wondering the same thing but he knew that the mystery would remain unresolved: sometimes the kids had ways to know things and, of course, they wouldn’t share their secrets. “Anyway, I asked the captain if we could have a private dinner just the five of us. I know it’s not much but that’s the best gift I can offer you.” He said, his voice sheepish.

Colette beamed, her cheeks growing hotter.   
“Having you it’s the best of gifts.” She raised to her tiptoes and kissed him softly on the lips. She closed her eyes, but to her surprise, he didn’t kiss her back. Colette detached from her, confused and started to stare at her, blankly.

With Isabelle and all, she wasn’t the only who had forgotten something.   
“Now that I think of it,” He said suddenly, starting to pat furiously at his own jacket, digging his fingers into every pocket. “I do have a gift.”

“Oh?” Colette frowned, now her eyes completely focused on his hand’s movements. She was genuinely curious to see what a real man in love would get her and, honestly, she already knew that if he would have to retrieve just a candy, she would be happy as she’d just received the world’s largest diamond.

Holt couldn’t stop smiling. When he finally grasped the little velvet box, he placed into her palm for her to open it.   
“Happy birthday, princess.” He said tenderly, throwing her an impatient glance.

Colette swallowed the lump in her throat. They talked about marriage only once, deciding it wasn’t necessary for either of them because their love was more than enough. She didn’t think she would get so excited and emotional over a closed velvet box, and yet there she was, shaking like a leaf, her eyes watery and her breathing cut.

“ _Mon Dieu_ , Holt.” Was all she managed to say.

He smirked, throwing a quick glance over the children, who were watching from distance, beaming and fidgeting on the floor. He was happy that they could assist and remember that moment, in the future, but also he wanted to be with Colette alone, in a way.

“Open it.” Encouraged Holt with a soft shrug. “If you don’t like it, you can yell at the little man over there.” He winked, referring to Joe.

Colette let out a peel of laughter, unable to stop smiling. She took the velvety box within her hands and flipped the top open. She held her breath when she finally saw the silver ring in it, a beautiful and simple jewel and yet so special, almost as if it had been made for them: its shank wasn’t blunt, the edges somewhat squared and it closed on the top with a mismatched head, where the two ends didn’t touch, one carved with a feather pattern, the other carrying a crystal blue stone, clear and pure as her own eyes.

“ _Qu’as-tu fait_?” She breathed out. “You must’ve spent a fortune!”

Holt shook his head again and, this time, she pointed at Milly.   
“Not at all. That pretty lady down there managed to make a deal with an antiquarian and bartered a ring with piles of photo and copies of her movies.” He explained with a diverted smile. “She didn’t even tell me! They planned it all on their own.”

Colette was moved. She let the tears freely fall from her eyes and the more she thought about the wonderful hearts of that family, the more she wept and felt lucky to be part of it. Suddenly, she realizing that she wasn’t about to marry just Holt, but those beautiful and loving kids too. They had worked so much, in secret, just to make his father and her happy.  
“ _Je ne sais que dire._ ” She muttered in shock.

“What?” Giggled Holt, trying to figure out the meaning, without result.

Colette smirked, slightly embarrassed.   
“I don’t know what to say.” She corrected.

“I know.” Beamed Holt, taking the ring from the box and waiting for her to raise her left hand to slip the ring on her finger. “We are going to get married in India.” He said gleefully, making her laugh while tears of joy still dampened her cheek. “We’ll have our dear Pramesh help us and maybe even officiate the ceremony. He’s a Panditani, you know, he can marry people.”

“Holt, when did you think about all that?” She asked in shock, unable to stop laughing and crying, her eyes darting from the ring on her finger to his face and back. She hardly even acknowledged the kids coming to them with the basket, eager to participate and hear from up-close.

“Now.” He simply replied with a little shrug. He couldn’t stop smiling, his breaths short and agitated. “So, it’s a yes?” He asked hopefully.

Colette nodded once, unable to do anything else.   
“ _Oui_ ,” She breathed out. “of course it’s a yes.”

* * *

* _Je ne sais pas_  = I don't know  
* _anniversaire_ = birthday _  
_* _Qu’as-tu fait_? = what did you do?  
  



	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes.  
> The italics are French words, which are translated at the bottom of the page.

Chapter 15

It took them several days to get to India and as soon as they stepped on land, it was clear that their journey had just begun. There were more people than they had ever seen, not even the crowd in Dreamland during Dumbo’s premiere had been that great or loud.

Luckily for them, most of the people could talk and understand English, so they were thrown back and forth from city to village until they found an old man that told them about the elephant’s sanctuary in the jungle. As soon as they named Pramesh, the old man smiled widely and they all realized that their former colleague had become a sort of a legend.

They decided to stay in an inn for the night to rest and resume the journey the next morning. That little money they had, in India was more than enough to live a decent life.

For as different as might have seemed, with all that swirl of colors, people and smells, India wasn’t that much different from their days in the circus, or those days back in Dreamland. They were used to the crows, to the yells and engines constantly buzzing in the background, and yet, as soon as they left the city and crossed the villages the next day, the quiet and peace of the countryside engulfed them into a sort of silent paradise.

The green jungle embraced the road everywhere and the blue sky was almost impossible to see behind the thick leaves. The air was heavy and warm, full of colorful insects and birds that flew and chirped all around them.

It took them hours to get to the sanctuary: it was in the middle of the jungle and to get there, they followed the curse of a river up to its source. There was a lake of crystal clear water and the greatest waterfall they’d ever seen. Hundreds of elephants were bathing undisturbed, playing in the water, the bigger ones sprinkling fountains from their trunks on top of the babies.

Dumbo was there too. He’d got bigger over the last year, but still, he bore the gentle traits of a young elephant, not yet fully grown. His ears were wider than ever and as soon as he saw them, he leaped and soared few feet off the ground to greet them.

Pramesh welcomed them in the sanctuary and after he heard their story, he gladly accepted to house them for as long as they needed. He offered them to help him with the elephants until they decided what to do and they were all so happy to say yes.

Milly and Joe would spend most of the days with the elephants, playing in the water with them as Holt and Colette helped Pramesh taking care of the babies, promoting the sanctuaries to the tourists, teach them about the pachyderms and about their natural habitat, try to persuade them to donate for the cause and free all the wild animals from the circuses around the world. Soon, they gained the community’s sympathy and love and everyone would help each other in every way possible; they particularly adored Isabelle who, with her distinctive feature, became a sort of princess goddess to worship and to whom everyone brought gifts of any sort.

After a few weeks of adjustment, it finally came the time to arrange the wedding. It was as extravagant as it could be, the perfect combination of the luxurious Indian ceremony offered by the nearer villages and the European tradition.

Colette’s something old was one of the first feathers she used to perform, which dated back to the streets of Paris, and it had been secured between her hair, as it were one of the best pieces of jeweler; her something new was her red dress, a beautiful and colorful sari richly embroidered with golden threads in form of various flowers. Before the ceremony, Milly and Joe borrowed Annie’s favorite foulard for her, which she rolled up and wore as a bracelet on her wrist; as for the something blue, she had the stone on the ring that Hold gave her when he asked her to marry her, along with his eyes and Isabelle’s eyes.

The wedding lasted a few hours, much less than a traditional Indian one, and right at sunset, they became officially Mr. and Mrs. Ferrier. Milly and Joe bolted to them with Isabelle and they hugged and kissed each other for what it seemed like an eternity.

Pramesh’s gift to them was taking all the children in his stilt house for the night, so they could stay on their own.

Holt sat on the edge of the bed in silence. His eyes ranked on her naked back as she removed the complicated dress and her earrings, one at the time. With the heavy makeup and wearing nothing else, she was breathtaking, so he simply stood there, staring at her, wondering how could he be so lucky to have such a woman to call his own.

Without even realizing it, he started to unbutton his own shirt.

Colette turned, her hands in her hair as she tried to undo the intricate comb. Every muscle tensed at each of her movements and when she was done, he heaved a long sigh at the cascade of ebony hair that shielded her chest from his hungry eyes.

“What'u looking at?” She asked innocently. Her walk toward the bed was teasingly slow.

Holt smiled as her French accent caressing his ears.   
“You.” He simply said.

“Well, it’s hot in here.” She shrugged dismissively, then she smirked. “I bet you’re feeling the same.” She added with a mischievous tone, gesturing toward his own bare torso after he’d removed his ceremonial jacket.

“Well,” Holt said, his voice low and melodic. “it’s our wedding night.” He pointed out.

Colette nodded and got closer. She wrapped her hands around his neck and heaved herself up to sit on his thighs, her knees on each side of him.   
“Every night is our wedding night.” She replied.

Holt drew a sharp breath as his hands latched on her hips, pulling her even closer.   
“True.” He conceded, dropping his forehead on her chest, breathing in her familiar scent. Her fingers ran soothingly through his hair and he couldn’t suppress a smile. He laid a kiss on her heated skin and look up at her. “Are you happy?” He asked dimly.

Colette looked down at him, nodding ever-so-lightly.   
“ _Oui_.” She whispered back. “Very much so.”

He held her close and laid her down on the bed, her hands and mouth cherishing every part of her body, his lips eager to feel every inch of her skin. He trailed down her neck with soft kisses, made her shiver as he moved pass the valley of her breasts and further down, where her stomach had flattened again, still bearing the lightest of swell, the delightful reminder of where their baby had hosted for months. He placed a firmer kiss there, before shifting further down, reaching the spot when he knew she was craving him the most.

His hands were ranking all over her body and his lips were moving slowly in circles. He didn’t stop when she let out whimpers of pleasure and her body shook violently, crushing more against his mouth. Colette dug her fingers through his hair, keeping him close as she reached her peak, her mind going deliciously blank for minutes as her hips buckled on their own accord. The first release quickly bled into a second and she had to pull him away, one hand on each of his cheeks as she drew him up to her to kiss him viciously as she still rode her peak off.

He accommodated himself between her legs and made love to her tenderly until they fell asleep hugging each other.

It was already noon of the next day when he woke up. His messy hair wouldn’t stay in place, but he didn’t care much. He padded his way on the balcony of their stilt house and found Colette on the wicker rocking chair, feeding Isabelle.

She looked so peaceful and beautiful bathed by the sun, her ivory skin almost glimmering like it was studded with jewels. She had her head tilted up, her neck stretched out as her arms wrapped the fragile body of their baby daughter as she ate; her small lips were moving eagerly, reddish against her mother’s pale skin.

He tiptoed on the balcony and propped himself on the railing. Soon, his eyes got lost on the horizon; the kids were already up and, as always, they were out playing with the elephants as they bathed and played with the water.

“What are you thinking, _mon charmant_?” Asked Colette suddenly, her voice sweet as she still lulled the baby.

Holt smiled tenderly as he turned to her. His glance dropped once again on the two, how their skins would melt together almost and how Isabelle would disappear inside her mother’s embrace, her small body exactly nestled against her breasts and arms, a perfect fit as if they were two pieces of a puzzle.

Isabelle stirred for a moment; she waved her little fist in the air, just to place it next to her mouth as she suckled, eagerly still. Her webbed fingers got visible as she stretched her hand over Colette’s bosom.

Holt giggled; she was his daughter indeed and she was so cute in everything she did, and oh, so beautiful, just like her mother. How could he wanted for her to be different when she was perfect the way she was?

“Look at Dumbo.” He sighed with a frown.

Colette narrowed her eyes and focused on the elephants playing in the lake, chasing each other as they run toward the waterfall. The babies would run around their mothers, the adults would gently sway their trunks and Dumbo, the most peculiar of them all, would jump and leap around carrying Milly and Joe on its back.

“What about him?” Colette asked, not really comprehending where he was going.

“He’s happy with his ears.” He pointed out with a small shrug of his shoulders. “More than happy, in fact. Isabelle could be happy as well.” Holt sighed again, turning to face Colette completely. The woman was staring right at him and she’d stopped rocking in the chair. “If there’s something that Dumbo has taught us, it that we should just accept what we are.”

Colette immediately dropped her glance, absentmindedly holding Isabelle closer to her.   
“Are you saying we should’ve stayed at the Circus?” She asked in a low, quivering voice. They had sacrificed so much and now he thought that everything had been useless?

Holt shook viciously his head and rushed to her, dropping on his knees. He placed his hand reassuringly over her leg as he leaned forward to kiss Isabelle’s rosy cheek.   
“No, never that. She’s not a freak.” He said firmly. “What I was saying is that she’s born like this and she could be happy. She could be destined for great things like Dumbo and maybe – maybe she’ll accept herself.”

Colette looked at him for a solid minute. All his words made sense, in a way, and it was up to them to teach Isabelle how to love herself and be happy with what they had, whatever the destiny had in store for each one of them, however, their lives would turn out to be.

She nodded and lifted one of her hand to cup Holt’s cheek: they would be fine.   
“When she’s old enough, she can decide by herself.”

Hold nodded as well.   
“We’ll support her no matter what.” He smiled and kissed his daughter once again.

Colette leaned forward to meet his lips into a small peck. Then lifted the baby up as she finished eating and propped Isabelle against her shoulder, patting gently on her back.

Holt watched them mesmerized, like everything was new for him or he was witnessing them bonding for the very first time. Colette rose up from the rocking chair and paced a little up and down on the balcony to make her daughter settle in, then walked toward the crib, where she laid her down. She wrapped the baby tight and kissed her forehead, her big blue eyes already dropping as she yawned.

She stood there for a moment, looking over Holt as he stretched his hand, spurring her to join him.   
“Come.” He murmured and Colette happily obliged him.

He pulled into his embrace and settled behind her, his chest pressed against her back as he breathed in her soothing smell. He felt so good to have her that close, Isabelle quietly sleeping in her crib, the kids playing with the elephants, their lives finally peaceful. He loved it all and he loved her so much.

Holt kissed her neck, swaying gently with her at a silent melody coming from the jungle.  
“So, what do you think?”

Colette frowned and turned within his embrace to face him.   
“What do I think about what?” She inquired curiously.

“About staying.” He replied simply. “Help Pramesh with the sanctuary.” Colette let out a disbelieving snort, but he just smiled her back, his brown eyes firm and full of hope. “We should raise our kids in the nature, happy and free. And we could visit the States and Europe in a few years, I’ll take you to Paris if you like. But – I really feel this is our place. We should make it our home.” His eyes were bright with a new light and she couldn’t help smiling back at him, her heart bursting with love for such a gentle and trusting man. “Do you think you would like that?”

Colette stared at him, her eyes watery. Without even realizing it, she was nodding ever-so-lightly.  
“ _Oui_.” She breathed out. “Yes – yes, I think I would.”

FIN

* * *

* _mon charmant_ = my prince

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's a wrap!  
> Thank you for sticking with me :) Until next time!

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a review :) Thanks for passing by.


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